Twisted Situations
by midnightwriter1898
Summary: It was just supposed to be a job. All I was supposed to do was keep their house clean. I wasn't supposed to fall for him. It was so twisted, I was their house keeper, his 'maid', and he was a famous rockstar. -Smitchie-
1. Encounter

**_Summary: It was just supposed to be a job. All I was supposed to do was keep their house clean. I _wasn't_ supposed to fall for him._**

**_A/N: Yeah, ANOTHER new story... I think I'm on a role :P Now, with this story, I'm not as enthusiastic about this as I am with some of my other ones. I can only write this one when I am in a certain mood, so don't expect super fast updates. But maybe you can make me get more into the story with your wonderful reviews? *lol*_**

**_Anyway, I hope you guys like it. ENJOY!_**

**_Disclaimer: I don't own Camp Rock... again._**

* * *

_Bring… Bring… Bring…_

I groaned as I flipped over, moving my pillow to cover my head. What was that _annoying_ sound that kept repeating? Why wouldn't it go away?

I frowned when I realized it was my phone's ringer going off. Who was crazy enough to call me at 7:45 in the morning?

I rolled back onto my side, reaching over to my nightstand and picking my cell phone, checking the caller ID. _Mary_. Oh wait, it was Mary! Quickly, I flipped my phone opened, pressing 'answer' while I drew it to my ear.

"Hello?" I asked, wondering what was wrong.

"Mitchie!" I frowned at this; she sounded so excited that nothing _could_ be wrong.

"Yes?" I replied hesitantly, now a little cranky about the fact she'd called me up this early and she wasn't _dying_. Sure, I could be a morning person, but not when I was woken up by my phone ringing for some random reason. "Is there a reason you called me this early?" I didn't mean to be rude, but couldn't it have waited until a decent hour?

"Yes!!!" Mary replied excitedly, her tone raising abnormally high, and I chuckled despite my grumpiness as I rolled to my stomach.

"So… are you going to tell me?" I asked again, when there was only silence between the two lines.

"Yes!!!" Mary yelled again, and I pulled the phone away from my ear so that I wouldn't become deaf. "I'm coming back to New Jersey this weekend!"

"NO!" I screamed in disbelief, immediately awake, jumping out of bed. Mary was coming to New Jersey! "OMG, major, when are you going to get here?"

"I'm just about to get on the plane." My mouth fell open, and I released a squeal that put Mary's earlier 'yes' to shame. "I'm going to come straight to your house, and we can spend the entire weekend together!"

"AAAAAHHHHHH!" Anyone within twenty miles of here probably just had their eardrums busted.

"I should be there at 9:00." She continued, and my demeanor fell as I remembered something.

"Wait, M, I have my cleaning job today." I sighed, running my hands through my hair.

"Come on Mitch, can't you cancel just once?" Mary whined into the phone, "I'm only going to be in town for a few day, and I cancelled my other plans so we could hang out and catch up!" She exclaimed, and I groaned. Why did my life always get so complicated? Why did Mary have to be coming _today_?

"I really want to, believe me Mary, I've been wanting to see you for forever and a day, it's just... their rich, and famous! If I don't show up, and every-thing's not _spotless_, their going to fire me! And I can't afford to loose my job... again." I sighed. Let's not even think about that whole mix-up, Mitchie. I heard a sigh come from the other end of the line, and I just wished that something would go easy for once.

"Fine. Can we at least hang out after, then?" Mary asked hopefully, and I was happy that I was able to say yes. Rejecting her once was bad enough, but twice… well, she might not want to be best friends with me anymore.

"Yup. I'm free after five." I informed her, and I heard her squeal happily from the other end of the line.

"Great! Can't wait to see you!" Mary replied, and I smiled. It had been three years since I'd seen her last.

"Me neither. I've really missed you this whole time." Mary had moved to California while I'd stayed in New Jersey. I couldn't have left my hometown, anyway. I loved it here too much. And then I found an ad in the paper for a cleaning job that paid _loads_ of money, and I made enough to support myself and afford my own apartment. "Well, I probably should go now, I've got to get to my job." I sighed, muttering a hurried 'good-bye' before snapping my phone shut. Time to get to my oh-so-wonderful job.

"Come on Aydan." I called, clapping my hand against my leg as I slid the key into the lock, sliding the door open smoothly. Aydan, my King Shepherd, followed closely behind as I allowed him to come into the house and closed the door behind us.

At first I'd confessed my concern to the woman who owned the house about leaving Aydan for the entire day, and she'd told me that as long as he didn't break anything, I could bring him with me. And Aydan was well-trained, so I'd had no problem with him so far. So far, it was so great.

"Aydan!" I snapped my fingers together as I entered into the kitchen, moving the pots and pans into the dishwasher and throwing soap in.

I'd never actually _seen_ the owners of the house; whenever I came, the house was always vacant. The only thing I knew was that the woman's name was Denise. I didn't even know her last name, which was sadly… I don't know, sad. I'd had this job for three years, and I'd never even met the people I worked for. And it's not like there was a way to figure it out either, because every time it was time for my paycheck, they'd ship me my money in an envelop with no return address. Obviously, they wanted their privacy, or they were criminals, or the like. But I didn't care. It was nice to come, clean without anyone interrupting or getting in the way, and then just leave, and have your money shipped right to your house.

It was then that I noticed Aydan wasn't by my side. Normally, he would lie at my feet and never stray far from me, but when I looked around he wasn't anywhere to be seen.

"Aydan?" I asked hesitantly, glancing around, uncertain as to where he was. He still hadn't come, either. Dang it, and everything had been going so well. "Aydan!" I called again, but my only response was a sudden outburst of ferocious barking coming from the stairs. My heart thudding in my chest, I raced towards the stairs, my eyes falling on where Aydan was staring, teeth bared, barking as if there was no tomorrow. I jumped when I glanced in the direction he was barking only to see a shaggy, dark-haired boy standing halfway up the stairs, staring down at Aydan - and now me - in disbelief. Oh crap, a burglar!

"What is the meaning of this?" He shouted, and I backed away, towards where the phone was sitting on the glass table a few hundred feet away. "What are you doing in here? This is private property! You shouldn't be in here; if you don't get out now I'll call the police!" He threatened, and I frowned.

"What are you talking about? You're the burglar!" I exclaimed, and he stared down at me in shock before bursting out laughing.

"Me? I live here. Don't you _know_ me? I'm Shane Gray."


	2. Personal Assistant' aka 'maid'

**A/N: WoW!! All your wonderful, encouraging reviews REALLY motivated me, I couldn't believe the response I got for this story! It's AMAZING! Thanks to all of you guys who reviewed, alerted, and faved this story, it all means so much, which is why I'm updating so quickly :) So, ENJOY the next installment of _Twisted Situations_!**

**Disclaimer: Nope nope noppppeeee I don't own Camp Rockkkk!**

* * *

Of course, once he shot out his name, I recognized him. My eyes grew wide as I realized I'd just yelled at _the_ Shane Gray, while he's in his own house. Well isn't this strike number one?

"Oh... I'm really sorry... I thought you were a burglar... nobody told me that this was your house..." I rambled, while Shane stood there staring at me with his eyebrows raised, his face expressionless.

"What are you _doing_ here anyway?" He asked, and I paused, realizing that he didn't know I was their house keeper.

"I clean here." I told him, not noticing that Aydan was slowly creeping towards the stairs. Of course, it was at that instant that Aydan gave one final deep, low growl and jumped... right ontop of Shane Gray, knocking Shane off his feet, which resulted in both him and Aydan to slid down the stairs. My hands flew to my mouth as they both landed with a loud _crash _at the bottom of the stairs. Aydan placed both paws on either side of Shane and leaning into his face, his teeth bared and growling dangerously.

"Aydan!" I shouted, rushing towards the scene that was sure to end badly and grabbing hold of Aydan's collar, while Shane, eyes wide, was yelling at me to grab my 'psycho killer dog or he'd sue me for every penny I had'. I pulled Aydan back, gripping his leash tightly, staring in shock as Shane scrambled to his feet, staggering backwards, pointing at Aydan while shouting that he'd own me after he was done with me. I swallowed, my heart pounding in my chest. Great, I'm going to lose my job _and _get sued.

"Get that... that... murderer out of my house!" Shane screamed, and I backed away, pulling Aydan, who was still barking, along with me.

"I'm sorry!" I cried, keeping a firm grip on Aydan's leash, dragging him away from Shane.

"Get out!" He yelled again, and, flustered, I obeyed. I turned and ran, slamming the door behind me, trying to figure out what had just happened. Oh right. I'd just discovered I was working for the Grays, only to have my dog knock Shane Gray over and, possibly, try to kill him. Right. _Great._

* * *

"My son mentioned there was a small... _incident _earlier." Mrs. Gray, I figured, said from the other end of the line. Yeah, I guess she could call it that. Although it wasn't really small. "No one got hurt, am I correct?"

"Yes Mrs. Gray." I replied, and I heard Mrs. Gray give a small groan.

"Please, don't mention our last name to anyone, or let on that we live there, Mitchie."

"Of course, Mrs. Gray." I replied instantly. If I was the Grays, I wouldn't want it known where I lived either. "I won't tell a soul." And now, Mrs. Gray gave a sigh of relief.

"Thank you. Anyway, we'll be in town for a few weeks, so you won't have to worry about cleaning the house. Of course, if you'd like, I could still send you the payment... wait, my son would like to talk to you." I frowned as I heard the phone being handed over to someone else. What would her son want to talk to me for... oh, maybe so he could get my information so he could sue me.

"Hello... _Mitchie_." Yeah, he didn't sound too happy. "So, I'll assume that you remember our little _encounter_ earlier. Anyway, my parents don't... _agree _with suing you, so I guess it'll have to be a different sort of 'punishment' for you. My mom told you we'd be in town this week, didn't she?"

"Yes..." I replied hesitantly, wondering where he was going with this. Wherever it was, I'm sure I was going to regret it. I just knew he was going to make something bad happen.

"How do you feel about having another job?" Again, with the uncomfortable questions.

"Umm..." I began, not quite sure how to respond. This just kept sounding worse and worse with every minute that passed.

"It doesn't matter." Shane cut in quickly, before I had the chance to answer. "You're going to be my personal... _assistant_ while we're there." What!?

"What, you mean like your _slave_?" I cried, and heard Shane chuckle at my response before responding.

"Well, whatever you'd like to call it. Assistant, slave, servant, maid..."

"Ok, I get it. No way." I cut him off, shaking my head violently. "I will _not_ be your... maid!" I insisted, determined not to back down.

"Well, it's either that or get sued. Either way, you'd better choose." I huffed loudly, trying to control my temper as I realized that if being his 'maid' would save my butt from getting sued, then I really had no choice in the matter.

"I hate you, Shane Joseph Gray." I cried, slamming my phone down. Well, wasn't this going to be fun. I got to be Shane Gray's 'personal assistant' while they were here 'a few weeks', as his mother had said. I'd rather just loose my cleaning job.

This was going to be the most difficult 'few weeks' of my entire life.


	3. You've Got My Number?

**A/N: THANKS again for all the wonderful reviews!!! It's funny, 23 reviews, and 23 alerts :) Anyways, this chapter is longer, hopefully I'll be able to make them longer from now on. **

**Thank you again, seriously this is amazing at how many people like this story that I thought 'was boring & uneventful and that no one will like it', quoting myself :) I'm glad I was wrong :D So, ENJOY and review :)**

**Disclaimer: No, once again, I don't own Camp Rock. I never did, so why bother asking?**

* * *

"Aydan almost attacked _the_ Shane Gray?" Mary cried in astonishment, her eyes wide. I nodded, biting my lip. Mary just sat there, motionless, her mouth hanging open, while I just continued to eat my Cookie Dough ice cream. Really, she acted like Shane was some kind of god. Not likely, I'll tell you that much. He was really quite the opposite.

"Mary?" I asked, my tone sweet with a nice hint of the sarcastic thoughts that were swirling inside my head, and she moved her eyes towards mine, still just sitting there, unmoving, hardly even blinking. "Are you still breathing?"

"You... and Shane... and Aydan... and, wow! I can't believe you met Shane Gray!" Now, here was her fan girl side coming out. That _had_ to be stopped, quickly, before it got out of hand. I liked her 'rough and tumble' attitude much better.

"Mary!" I yelled, watching as she jumped. "Snap out of it!" She rolled her eyes, raising her eyebrows at my outburst.

"Jeez, you couldn't let me have even a minute?" She asked, and I shook my head. Not after _last_ time. Her fan girl side was way too wild. I'd seen it once, and that had been more than enough. I never wanted to see that Mary again.

"Too dangerous." I replied before shoving some more Cookie Dough ice cream into my mouth. Mary, again, rolled her eyes before following suit.

"Now come on, tell me _everything _that happened when you guys met! Is he as dreamy in real life as he is on TV? Com'on, tell me, tell me, tell me!" This is Mary on sugar-high. I think I need to go and hide the ice cream, for both of our sakes. Mary on a sugar rush is... scary. I didn't even want to think about what had happened last time she'd gone all crazy on me. Let's just say, a broken TV, a few shattered lamps, and a house disaster makes parents angry and Mitchie very, very doomed. I'd scrubbed exactly 1,305 dishes in a week, and 3,510 in total. And I'd also had to pay for what was broken, which was why I'd had to take up cleaning jobs. So I guess, in a very roundabout way, it was all Mary's fault I was in this predicament.

"Which would you like to hear first, the part where he threatened to sue me, or the part where I become his 'personal _maid_' for a few weeks?" I asked sarcastically, and watched in slight annoyance as Mary's mouth dropped open again. "Please, close your mouth before the ice cream falls onto the carpet. You're cleaning it up this time if it happens." I warned her, and she promptly obeyed, her eyes still wide. I saw her swallow before her mouth re-opened, and I quickly slammed my hands against my ears, just in time to block out her scream.

"You're going to be _Shane Gray's personal maid?!" _Just as I predicted, Mary went all 'I'm a psychotic, overly obsessed Connect 3 fan' on me again. "OH MY GOSH, I cannot _believe_ you're so lucky!" She screamed loudly, and I groaned. Lucky? Quite the opposite, actually.

"I wouldn't call it lucky. I'd use the more appropriate word - torture." I corrected her, and she stopped her noise-making and rolled her eyes at me.

"Come on M, just admit that you're excited. I mean, you can't really be _this_ laid backed and annoyed about this whole situation." I wasn't lying; I mean, I'd kind of been a fan of Connect 3 before they went all 'big-headed jerks' on me, but now, I really felt nothing but annoyance. Shane was just as much a jerk as I'd expected, if not _more_.

"You know I used to like them, Mary, but they changed. And I really don't feel like spending my entire time with someone who thinks we should all just worship him and his stupid hair." Mary gasped.

"His hair is amazing!" She argued, and I sighed, rolling my eyes at her. Why was I best friends with a crazed Connect 3 fan, anyway?

"Come on, why don't we watch the movie before my head explodes from your constant nagging about Shane?" I suggested, cutting her off by grabbing her hand and leading her over to the couch. "Now, which movie, _Home Fries_ or _Another Cinderella Story_?"

* * *

"I guess it's just you and me now, boy." I spoke calmy to Aydan, rubbing his head as he curled up on the couch next to me. Mary had left after we'd finished our movie, and I had nothing else to do the rest of the evening. "Want to come help me make dinner?" I asked, and Aydan barked. I laughed, smiling down at him before sliding off of the couch and making my way into the kitchen. Sometimes it was almost as if Aydan could understand everything that I was saying. He jumped off of the couch and followed me, close on my heels as usual. Some people might think that living by yourself was lonely, but I was anything but that. Aydan was just as good, if not better, as having a roommate or the like.

My cell phone ring began to blast just as I pulled a box of mac and cheese out of the refridgerator, and I sighed, wondering who it could be. It was already well into the night, ten at the least. I threw the box onto the counter and made my way back into the living room, checking the caller ID. It was an unfarmiliar number, and I sighed before flipping my phone open and bringing it up to my ear.

"Hello?" I asked, wondering who would really have the guts to call me up at ten at night.

"Hello, my little personal assistant, I just wanted to make sure you'll be here at nine A.M. tomorrow morning." My mouth dropped open at the sound of none other than Shane pain-in-the-butt Gray's voice coming through _my_ cell phone. This could _not_ be happening. How could Shane even know my number? What was he, some creepy stalker or something? And what the heck was he doing calling this late? Was he crazy? Oh wait, yes that he was.

"How the _heck_ did _you_ get my number?" I cried, tempted to slam my phone shut at that moment, but I knew I couldn't risk Mr. Sensitive trying to sue me. Shane gave a chuckle from the other end of the line.

"My mom." Uggghhh.... great. Now I'm going to have some pop star who thinks I'm his personal _slave_ calling me to annoy me to death. Just great. It was all so stinkin' great I wanted to puke.

"What do you want?" I snapped, in no mood to listen to him blab on and on with his stupid cocky tone like he had last night. Couldn't I just have spend this last night of freedom in peace? Did he really _have_ to crush that hope, too?

"Come on Mitch, that's no way to talk to your new boss, now, is it?" Shane tsked his tongue, putting on his 'innocent' voice, and I growled under my breath. Shane just had to make this so much more difficult than it could be. But that didn't surprise me. Big head, big ego, and a big obsession with his hair (shallow, I mean really, come on) equals stupid, obnoxious pop star.

"Just spit it out, Gray." I demanded, ready to close my phone and wait for a court case, but hearing Shane's sigh I figured I'd give him a few more minutes to explain himself. Why I did, I still have no idea. I guess I wasn't thinking.

"Fine." Shane's 'sweet, friendly' tone had vanished. "Look, I just wanted to remind you to be here at nine o'clock sharp. Can you do that much without being all sarcastic and uncool?" He's the one being bratty and he's calling me sarcastic and uncool? No way, dude, I was not going to put up with that. I'd take care of him in the morning, that one thing was for sure.

"_Fine_. But you probably should know I have to bring Aydan. If you plan on me being your 'personal assistant' all day, I can't leave him alone the whole time." I told him, and I could almost see him frowning from where ever he was now.

"Who's Aydan?" His question surprised me; hadn't he heard me shouting at Aydan to get off of him that day? I guess pop stars are not only stupid, they're also deaf.

"My dog, of course." At this, I could picture Shane's shocked expression. Ah yes, now he'll remember. As I'm sure he'll word it, 'the beast that attacked me and tried to murder me'. Yes, that one, of course.

"No way!" He yelped almost immediately, and I grinned deviously. "That... that _mutt_ tried to kill me!" Oh no, he did _not_just insult Aydan. Aydan was not a _mutt_. He was a very special, very rare King Shepherd. He was _definitely_ not a mutt. "I refuse! He is banned from our property!"

"Well, then I guess I won't be coming. Call me again when you want to meet for a hearing." I snapped, just about to snap my phone shut, when I heard Shane's quiet 'no!'. I stopped, pressing the phone harder to my ear, waiting for him to speak up.

"Look, I'll pay for him to stay in a kennel or something while you're staying here." Wait, back it up now. _Staying_ here? What the heck did Shane mean by that? I was not going to be staying there, that much was for sure. I was staying in my own nice, comfortably, homey apartment, not that cold, bright, seemingly uncaring mansion.

"What do you mean by staying?" I spit out, my heart pounding as I anxiously awaited his answer. Please no, please.

"Why of course, I didn't tell you yet?" Shane asked, and I rolled my eyes at his 'oblivious' tone. Of course he'd left that part out on purpose. I gritted my teeth together, wondering how I would make it through the three weeks I'd be with the Grays. Already, I couldn't stand him, and I'd only talked to him a few times. "You'll be staying with us while we're in town."

No. No, no, no, _please_ no. This could not be happening. It just couldn't... please, it wasn't possible.

"What?" I shrieked, causing Aydan's head to snap up as he stared at me, probably wondering why I'd gone from calm and quiet to nervous, my heart racing, and now I was yelling. Aydan tilted his head towards me before releasing a 'sigh' and resting his head between his legs. "You'd better be kidding, Gray, or... or I'll..." I'll do something bad, is what I wanted to say.

"Or you'll what?" Shane retorted, and I opened my mouth to reply, but he cut me off. "_Look_, my parents already are expecting you! They made arrangements and everything! You're coming to stay with us, and that's final!" Why was Shane making all his sentences end with exclaimations marks? Really, he wasn't that exciting.

"You're _evil_." I hissed, telling him the truth.

"Oh, by the way," Shane's tone was much quieter and not as obnoxious. "They kind of think you're one of my friends."

Oh. My. Gosh.

"Forget that, you're pure _wicked_." I cried, throwing the phone down onto the floor, wishing it would just break into a million pieces. Of course, this was one of the rare times that it didn't even get a scratch, and I tried to calm myself as I trembled in rage. Shane Gray's _friend_? Well, jeez, I didn't know that friend meant slave!

"Well, Aydan, what do you say you and I run away tonight?" I suggested, grabbing Aydan's leash off the hook, where it was dangling from the wall. "Want to go for a walk?" As any other dog, Aydan enjoyed long, peaceful walks, and the moment he'd hear the word, he'd jump up and wag his tail fervently, whining and running to the door.

"Let's go, my sweet boy." I clipped his leash to his collar and pulled the door open, only to be met with the 'one and only', stupid jerk-head Shane Gray.


	4. Through The Fangirls and To Your House

**A/N: Here we go with the next chapter! Sorry it's short, I have to get off the pc. So, I'll be breif, enjoy and keep reviewing!  
**

**Disclaimer: Does it look like I own Camp Rock?**

* * *

"How do you know how I live?" I screamed, pulling Aydan back as he began to bark, jumping towards where Shane stood. Shane smiled cockily, raising his eyebrows at Aydan's bared teeth.

"Umm, have you never heard of typing in someone's phone number and getting their address?" He replied arrogantly, and I widened my eyes.

"Stalker!" I screamed, releasing Aydan's leash a little so he could get closer to Shane. "Get off of my property! Why are you stalking me?" If I made enough commotion, maybe one of the neighbors would notice and call the police or something. But, unfortunately, nothing else stirred in the small corridor. Typical. All of my neighbors were old, deaf little ladys sitting in their rocking chairs and knitting away all day. They were no help, as usual.

"Calm down, Mitchie, it's not that big of a deal. I was already walking over here anyway when I called you. You're not really that far away from our house, you know. Now, can you call back your beast and let me in?" He asked irritably, his eyes narrowing at Aydan, who released another long, low growl before breaking out into a series of barks.

"Why should I?" I shot back, causing an annoyed expression to flash across Shane's face.

"Look, let me put it to you this way. I'm Shane Gray, world famous, and the paparazzi are all over any new story they can get about me. And they just so happened to catch sight of me walking in here, so if you don't let me in, it'll be all over the news that you're my new 'girlfriend'. And neither of us wants that. So just let me in already."

"Why should I believe tha-" I began, but was cut off at the shout of "Shane Gray, over here!" and was momentarily blinded by a camera's flash. In a flash, I grabbed Shane's arm, yanking him into my apartment and slamming the door behind us. Breathless from the near heart attack I'd just experienced, I glared at Shane.

"You couldn't have warned me earlier or put on some stupid disguise?" I asked fiercely, my breath 'huffing' as I tried to catch it, leaning against the door for support. Shane simply crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows.

"Never works anyway." He retorted, and I felt like I could just breathe some fire all over him and make him melt away.

"You couldn't have at least _tried_ it?" I snapped, "Now you're stuck in here until they leave... wait, it's you their after, not me." It dawned on me, and I raised my eyebrows right back at him, a smile forming on my lips. "See you tomorrow." With that, I turned, yanking open my door and grabbing Shane's arm, shoving him out the door and shutting him out quickly. I heard an ear-piecing scream of "_Shane Gray_!" and winced before laughing evilly, going to return to my dinner.

* * *

I stared up apprehensively at the tall, gated mansion that loomed before me, biting my lip at the tall gate. Sure, I had the code, but I wasn't sure whether to just enter it and walk in, or ring the bell and wait for someone to speak through the intercom. I finally decided on the second option, leaning up and pressing the small button. It wasn't long before a woman's voice spoke.

"Hello?" From the sound of it, it was Mrs. Gray. At least it wasn't Shane.

"Hi, umm..." I trailed off, unsure of what to say. "It's Mitchie... I'm here to see Shane?" I replied hesitantly, hoping I sounded alright.

"Oh of course, Shane told me you were coming. Come on in, dear!" I heard a 'buzz' and the gate creaked open slowly. Taking a deep breath, I made my way up to the mansion for my first day as Shane's 'maid'. Fun, fun, it would be _fun_.

* * *

"How nice to finally meet you, Mitchie dear." Mrs. Gray pulled me into a hug the minute I stepped inside of the house, smiling brightly. I stiffened, not expecting this kind of welcome, before returning the hug carefully. "Come in and meet the others, dear." She grasped my hand firmly as she lead me into the living room, where Mr. Gray and all the rest of Connect 3 were lounging on the couches. Immediately, Jason leaped up and pulled me into a suffocatingly tight bear hug.

"My name's Jason!" He squealed, just like a five year old taking 'happy pills'. So, he was pretty unlike his dark, stalkerish brother. What a relief. I could breathe again... well, not really. I think Jason's hug was crushing my air passage.

"Mitchie." I coughed out, giving him an nervous smile. "Can't breathe." I continued, and Jason abruptly let go.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry! Are you okay?" He immediately asked, his forehead creased with lines of worry. I laughed slightly.

"I'm fine. Nice to meet you too." Nate stood, offering me his hand, and I shook it. So far I liked this kid; he was much more quiet and mature than his brothers.

"Nice to meet you, Mitchie. I'm Nate." He said, his voice warm yet not hyper-active or stalkerish-ly-scary like Shane and Jason's. I nodded, smiling shyly. And then there was Shane.

"Hiya." He nodded his head in my direction, not looking me in the eyes, obviously still annoyed at me about last night. Oh well, he was the one who just had to insist that I come and be his stupid maid, so he got what he deserved.

"Hi Shane!" I replied as cheerily as I could, just to annoy the heck out of him. I could literally see his eyes darken, and I laughed at myself on the inside.

"Here, come on up to my room with me." Shane stood, grabbing my wrist, and hastily pulled me up the stairs before I - or anyone else, for that matter - could get a word in edgewise. He pushed me into his room and shut the door firmly behind us, glowering at me. "Now, why did you push me out into an insane, crazed mob full of fan girls last night?"

"Because I don't exactly appreciate being stalked and then you showing up so late at night!" I retorted, somewhat angrily. How could he blame me for my actions when he was the one who was a stalker? Shane crossed his arms, not looking like he was going to back down. Well congratulations Shane, neither was I. You don't just show up at someone's house at 10:30 at night. It was wasn't right.

"You threw me into a pack of screaming fan girls! I could've gotten killed!" That was a bit of an exaggeration, and I rolled my eyes at him.

"Slight exaggeration, much?" I scoffed, following suit and crossing my arms.

"No way, that was a dangerous situation you _threw _me into... I would fire you, but then I'd be thanking you, so no. I'm just going to extend your working days. Turns out my parents plan on staying for an extra week. So yay for you, you get to be my maid, slave... whatever you call it, for a total of four weeks." My mouth dropped open after I groaned, staring straight at Shane in disbelief. No way, three weeks already was torturous enough. "Now, _maid_, let's get started. How about... first we work on my personal bathroom?" He suggested, opening another door to reveal a grand, large, _disgusting_ bathroom. Just like I said, this is going to be loads of fun.


	5. Converse

**A/N: OMG 50 reviews???? I think I passed out, or maybe I'm dreaming... :O THANK You guys so much for all the reviews, it's actually why I'm updating right now :) When I saw how many wonderful reviews there were, I knew I owed it to all you guys to give you another chapter without further delay. Sorry it's a little short, I didn't have time to write a long chapter, I'll try harder next time :)**

**So: Random question (I'm going to start adding these when I'm bored): How many of you own a dog? We have four, but I have one, my little Nico :) What about you guys?**

**Oh yeah, I wanted to mention, if any of you guys are on the look out for some well-written, exciting plots, and just GREAT stories, check out Angelbach's 'Rejoined Connections', it is AMAZING and really deserves to reach 100 *or more!* reviews. Check it out! *haha, check it out, loved the new SWAC eppy***

**Enjoy and review :)**

**Disclaimer: Yada yada yada, I still don't own Camp Rock.**

* * *

"Are you done yet?" Shane's impatient voice floated from his position on the bed, all the way to where I was working, trying to straighten up his walk-in closet. I rolled my eyes at his constant harassment, standing up and straightening up my posture. I'd been on the floor, bent over, scrubbing the stains out of his white carpet. Yes, _white_. Really, what person picks out white carpet, unless you're an air-headed, brainless pop star?

"Can you hurry it up, my shoes are looking a little dull. I think they need to be shined." Shane commented, staring down at his oh-so-interesting shoes. At that, I couldn't help that my mouth dropped open in disbelief.

"Shane, I just 'shined' them a half an hour ago! They look _fine_! You do realize that they're only _converse_, right? It doesn't matter if they're 'shined' or not. I'm not sure you even _can_ 'shine' converse!" I exclaimed, causing Shane's head to raise up, along with his eyebrows, as he gave me his signature cocky expression.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't have heard you right, it sounded like you were talking back to me, but you know that's not allowed... maid." I clenched my jaw tightly, staring icily at his jerkish face, refraining from grinding my teeth together. "Now, as I said..."

"I know, I know, I'm coming." I snapped before he could continue. Quickly, I grabbed a spare rag off of his counter and sat on my knees in front of him. In response, he lifted his foot and placed it firmly on my knees, waiting for me to 'shine' his converse. Refraining from rolling my eyes, I rubbed the rag over each shoe until he looked satisfied, and moved back to my small space in the closet to finish his carpet.

"When you're finished... which, hopefully is soon," Shane commented, leaning over my shoulder to survey my work, "Wait, you missed a spot." He - very annoyingly, may I mention - leaned right over me, pushing against my back, just to touch the black dot on the almost spotless carpet. Notice, almost. But I was a little more preoccupied with the pain shooting down my back from the uncomfortable position I was pushed into. Shane almost seemed to be enjoying it; causing my back pain, that is, and raised his eyebrows before backing off again. "What?" He asked, at the nasty look I sent him. "I was just trying to help."

"Please, I am the maid after all, let me work, I can do it. I've been cleaning your house for this long, what makes this any different except that you're standing over my shoulder?" I replied evenly, keeping my voice calm and patient. Shane crossed his arms and returned to his previous position on the bed.

"Where's your killer?" Shane blurted out a few moments later, and I glanced up, confused, when I realized Shane was, inadvertently, telling me that Aydan was missing. I bit my lip, walking over to the door to glance down the stairs, but still, no Aydan. With an irritated sigh, I spun around, crossing my arms and staring at Shane.

"How long has he been missing? Or, how long have you _known_ he's been missing?" I snapped, and Shane smiled cockily.

"What makes you think I know where he is?" He replied, just as evenly, and I had to contain my anger, once again.

"Look," I spoke slowly, deliberately, staring directly at Shane, "Just tell me which way he went." There, Shane, let's make it simple for you. No big words or hard-to-figure out meanings. Shane sighed loudly.

"Down the stairs, ten minutes ago." He informed me, and without further ado I made my way down the stairs in search of Aydan. I checked the kitchen first, figuring he'd probably be in there, since that was where I normally spent most of my time, but still, no Aydan. Where the heck was that dog? Why did he keep wandering off lately? Normally he'd just stick to my side, but I guess there was new people to explore now.

I started to head for the patio - that would be Aydan's next choice besides the kitchen - when I heard a soft, playful voice coming from the living room. Furrowing my eyebrows together, I headed in the direction of the voice, only to be met with the sight of Aydan sitting in Jason's lap, licking his face happily, while Jason rubbed his back.

"Oh hi Mitchie!" Jason chirped, spotting me instantly, his eyes lighting up. "Your dog is so sweet! I love him! He should come to live with us!" I had to smile at Jason's cheerful rambling. He was so unlike Shane that it was hardly possible to believe they were even brothers.

"Well, Aydan will be coming back tomorrow. You'll be seeing him a lot over the next couple of weeks." I told him gently. Jason smiled up brightly at me.

"I like you, you're nice. A lot nicer than Shane. How can you stand being is friend? He can be kind of... rude." Jason asked innocently, and I wasn't quite sure how to respond to him. He was so sweet and innocent, like a small child, and you didn't lie to innocent children, no excuses.

"Well, I'm sure that underneath all the pop star, there's a caring person in there. We just have to find him." I answered, wishing that I really believed that it was true. Somehow, I had a feeling that under Shane... well, there was just more Shane.


	6. I Hate Pop Stars

**A/N: I'm really sorry I haven't updated, let me sum it up to you: sick dog, annoying friends, baby guppies, and stress :) lol. That pretty much explains my days anymore. And I missed the JB 3D movie :( But anyway, here's a short chapter, sorry it's not longer but it's really late here and I'm tired, so if this chapter is sucky you know why :P Thanks everybody, for all the reviews!**

**Disclaimer: Nope, nope, NO, I don't *sadly* own Camp Rock :( Yes, pity me. *lol***

* * *

"Here tomorrow at nine o'clock, just to remind you." Shane informed me... again, as I picked up all the cleaning supplies and put them back under the sink counter.

"No, duh, Captian Obvious." I shot back, rolling my eyes in his direction. I'd already had enough of him and his big, stupid head of hair, and this was only my first day 'working' for him. I wasn't sure how I would survive the rest of the four weeks they'd be in town. He was so stuck up and pretentious! Well, at least the rest of his family was nice. I wonder how Shane turned out so differently from Nate and Jason.

"Be nice to the boss, Mitch." Shane tsked, and I turned, raising my eyebrow at him.

"Or you'll what? Fire me?" I asked, "Oh, how would I live without this torture?" I exclaimed sarcastically, throwing my hands up dramatically. "Oh, how will I _survive_ without your obviously superior ways to direct me and utilze me to the the best of my abilities?" I rolled my eyes, exaggeratedly, of course, before laughing uncontrollably at Shane's red face.

"Or, I'll make you come with us on our world tour so you can continue being my maid." He retorted promptly, and my laughing abruptly stopped. My eyes widened, hopefully not too noticably so he wouldn't notice and decide to tourture me some more.

"Well, then..." I paused, biting my lip, trying to come up with some smart, sarcastic comeback. "I guess I'll just quit!" I tried my best to not make my statement sound as lame as it really was, but apparently it didn't work because now Shane was chuckling.

"And then what? You'll get sued by the 'all time master of rock stars.'" I choked, gagging at his description of, sadly, very sadly, himself.

"You wish! But pop stars can't even compare, or come close to comparing, with rock stars, ever. You're not a rock star."

"And you're only a maid." Shane shot back, and I closed my mouth, trying to control the need to grit my teeth together in annoyance.

"Goodbye." I snapped, turning on my heels abruptly, "I'll see you tomorrow." With that, I marched out of the room, Aydan releasing a low growl at Shane before following me out of the Grays' mansion.

* * *

"Mitchie!" I winced, pulling the phone away from my ear, hoping that Mary hadn't just burst my eardrums. "Like, OMG, how was your first day working for an internationally famous, wonderful pop star!" She shrieked, and I closed my eyes for a second, trying to get over the ringing in my ears. "OMG you must tell me _everything_!"

"Well, where do I begin?" I pretended to ponder, allowing a few seconds of silence to pass before blurting out the truth. "It went horribly, what do you expect when you're a jerk-headed pop star's maid?" I stated sarcastically, being loud on purpose, wishing that I could see Mary jump back at the sarcasam evident in my voice. "It's not a walk through a fresh, flowering meadow!"

"Well, gee, sorry." Mary retorted, and I could just see her rolling her eyes at me. "I didn't know you were so grumpy, jeez!" Of course, she wasn't being rude, it was just our way of picking on each other.

"You'd be the same way if you'd spent a total of eight hours, fifty-four minutes, and twenty seconds with a soon to ve 'washed-out pop star'." I replied, and Mary sighed.

"There's just no convincing you, is there?" She asked, although it wasn't really a question. We both knew I didn't - and would never - like Shane, it just wasn't me. Mary had tried so many times to change my mind, but I couldn't help it. Especially after his jerk attitude and the fact I was his 'maid' until further notice. If his fans spent just one day with him, and he didn't put on a show, I could guarentee that they wouldn't like him much either after.

"Nope." I replied cheerily, "Good thing we got that settled."

"Yup." Mary answered, her voice dull. "Good thing, isn't it?"

* * *

I closed my eyes shut tighter, trying to go back to sleep. Something had woken me up and now I couldn't go back to bed. I lay in the bed, staring up at my ceiling, before I heard Aydan begin to bark fierociously, scratching fervently at the door. My eyes snapped open and I immediately lauched out of bed, reaching up and grabbing my robe, pulling it tightly around me before bolting towards the sound of Aydan's growling.

"What the heck is going on?" I asked no one in particular, glancing through the door keyhole, trying to see if there was someone outside of my door. I couldn't see anything, but it was dark and Aydan seemed convinced that something was outside of the door. Sighing, I pulled the door open, stepping outside cautiously.

"If someone's there, you'd better..." I was cut short by a hand reaching out, covering my mouth as it pulled me back. I released a strangled scream, kicking out, my heart racing.

"Mitchie, calm down!" I heard an irritable voice whisper fiercely, but instead of calming down, I only wished Ithat I was better at throwing punches. It might come in handy.


	7. Returning A Jacket?

**A/N: Another short chapter, but my mom's making me get off the computer & go fix up my fish tank :( lol. But I had to update again because of all of your wonderful amazing reviews! Thank you guys so much, and enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own Camp Rock.**

* * *

"No way!" I screamed, and then, just for the heck of it and because I felt he deserved something back for his big attitude problem, I spun around, tossing my fist towards his face.

"Argh!" I heard him curse, as he fell to the ground, holding the right side of his face.

"What the heck are you doing? You... you stalker!" I screamed, wishing that maybe some insane fan girl that lived in this corridor would wake up, scream in his face, and then chase him down the block, to where he was living, and then they'd have to move... And that, ladies and gentlemen, is just my imagination running wild. Oh well, what are dreams made of?

"Jeez Mitchie!" He hissed, being sure to keep his voice low, "What a way to treat your employer! Now, get inside!" He pushed me into my apartment, following me swiftly and shutting the door behind us.

"Why are you in my house?" I yelled, turning to glare at him, while he put on his - not very good - oh-so-innocent-me face.

"Well, jeez Mitchie, I'm sorry for trying to return your jacket!" He replied, rolling his eyes as he tossed my black sweater towards me, oh so not gracefully.

My mouth dropped open as I caught the black sweater that was thrown my way, my eyes widening in the process. Could this pop star get any dumber?

"You came over here in the middle of the night to return my jacket?" I cried in disbelief, trying to resist the urge to throw another punch his way. As much as he deserved it, I could be satisfied that I'd already done a good job.

"Yes." He replied dryly. "And you thank me by punching me? You should be apologizing, and I should be keeping your jacket!" He exclaimed, and I raised my eyebrows at his little outburst.

"Mmhmm." Now it was Shane's turn to have his mouth form into an 'o'. In his eyes, he'd done something right - yeah, pop stars really aren't famous for their brains - and he still didn't understand why I, the normal person in this situation, was upset at him, the insane stalker, for trying to 'return my jacket' at two in the morning.

"Go away!" I screamed, glaring daggers at him, since trying to be quieter was obviously not getting the point across to him. I always knew that pop stars were thick headed, especially when their last name was Gray. Shane huffed and crossed his arms.

"Jeez Torres, I was just trying to give you back your sweater! Now as your employer, I demand a thank you!" Shane retorted, his eyes glaring daggers, and his face beet red. I copied his movements and stared back at him, unwilling to back down.

"No." I replied simply, seeing Shane's mouth drop even farther open.

"No?" He asked in disbelief, and I nodded again, feeling more confident with every passing minute.

"I may work for you - temporarily - but that doesn't mean that you own me! You're so stinkin' stupidly stuck up you can't even see how big of a jerk you really are! You're so stuck up you don't _even _know you're a jerk! You're mean to your friends, your family, and to any other person who may dare to cross your path!" I blew up, "And you know what else? I don't owe you _a _thing. If I were you, I'd get off of my property and far away from me before I call the police on you!" I shouted, now in a mad rage. Shane's eyes were wide - probably with a mixture of shock and disbelief. He stood there, just staring at me, obviously trying to think of a smart remark, whereas he had none. "Get out!"

With that, Shane scattered. Seriously, he bolted for the door. Flinging it open wildly, he threw me a mad-annoyed-shocked glance before taking off down the corridor. In satisfaction, I re-bolted the door, praised Aydan, before crawling back into bed and pulling the covers over my head.

* * *

_And so another long day begins, whoopee._ I groaned as the guard at the gate waved me on, of course after taking at least twelve minutes to ask me a million different questions and refusing to let me in, at which point I suggested he called the main house. After Mrs. Gray had given him an earful, he'd apologized profoundly and waved me on, red face blushing. Rolling my eyes, I made my way towards the door, forcing myself to raise my hand and ring the doorball. A cheery Mrs. Gray answered the door before I had a chance, ushering me inside.

"Hello dear, come with me to the kitchen." She grabbed my wrist gently, leading me into the kitchen. "I just baked some cookies, and as you know us girls always get the first pick." She smiled, handing me a warm chocolate chip cookie, and I grinned back at her. How could a woman as sweet as her end up with the 'bad boy of Connect 3 - soon to be Connect 2' on her hands? Obviously Shane was a mix between a oddball and mutant.

"Hey Mitchie!" I turned, jumping in surprise as Jason flung his arms around my shoulders, his whole face beaming. "Did you bring Aydan today? He's my best friend!" Jason rambled excitedly. "Not that it's not good to see you too, of course!"

"It's ok, Jase. Good morning to you too." I replied gently, smiling at Jason. "Actually, I left Aydan home today." Jason's face dropped and he immediately gave me the infamous puppy-dog look.

"But..." He began, sighing loudly.

"I'm sorry, Jase. But don't worry, he'll be back again tomorrow!" I cut in quickly, me being the sucker I was for puppy-dog faces. I found them just a little too hard to resist, and Jason doing it was just a little too adorable. "Thank you for the cookies, Mrs. Gray! I guess I'll go bother Shane a bit." I teased, watching Mrs. Gray chuckle.

"Have fun dear, that boy needs a bit of tossing around."


	8. Human, Just Maybe

**A/N: *Gasps and faints* Over 100 reviews? I must be dreaming... THANK YOU SO MUCH! I cannot believe this story - which at first I thought "ah, boring, but w/e, I'll post it anyway - is so popular! Thank you guys for being the best reviewers of all times! **

**Here is the next chapter, I hope you enjoy! **

**BTW, guess what? I made a banner for this story! Well, I made a ton of banners *links can be found on my profile* and I couldn't resist adding one in here for this one, sorry it's so... plain. But I liked it anyway :) The link won't post on here *stupid FF!!!* but it's on my profile, near the top so it's easy to find. Check it out! *Yes, you check it out :)***

**Disclaimer: Yada yada yada... me own Camp Rock? What? What nonsense! :P**

* * *

"Go away." Shane's irritable voice boomed the minute I knocked on his door. Wow, something must have him in a bad mood. Let me take a wild shot - it has something to do with last night.

"What, did you wake up on the wrong side of your hamster wheel?" I replied sweetly, "Or are you mad because you didn't get to sleep in your hamster wheel?" I could hear Shane's bed creak a few moments before Shane's door was flung open, and I was met with a very annoyed Shane.

"What do you want, Mitchie?" He snapped, stepping in front of the door so I couldn't answer. "I get it, you hate me. My ego's not so big that I can't see that. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to..." He trailed off, and I raised my eyebrows, waiting for him to continue. "Cleaning my room." He finished lamely, and I allowed myself a small chuckle.

"I just cleaned it yesterday, pop star, so either you're the messiest kid on the planet or you're a really bad liar." I replied, leaning against Shane's door frame. Shane sighed, looking like he just wanted to slam the door in my face and go back to doing nothing - no, wait, he was 'cleaning his room'.

"Look, Mitchie, I'm not the mood for more of your sarcastic comments. I get you, you don't want to work here and you don't like me. _I get it_. Well, guess what? You're free to go. Have fun, you got your wish." I frowned at the hurt in his voice that he was clearly trying to disguise - although it was not working - wondering why in the world he was acting so sensitive? I surely couldn't have caused this.

"Shane - well, first, let me in." I pushed his door open further and entered his room, moving across the now-clean floor - thanks to the hard work I'd done yesterday - and sitting down on his bed. "Now, are you going to pout about whatever is wrong or are you going to move on and/or talk about it?"

"Mitchie, I'm_ so_ not in the mood." Shane replied, turning to me and crossing his arms, a stubborn expression on his face. Of course, he also looked 'down in the dumps', so to speak.

"Sit." I instructed, patting the bed beside me, and Shane mumbled something inaudible before reluctantly sliding in beside me.

"I don't want to hear it." Shane said immediately. "You trashed me enough last night - and I'd really just like to write a few new songs and be alone." He stressed the last word, but me being, well, me, wasn't that easy to get rid of.

"Look, Shane, I'm sorry. I just thought you needed to hear it. And just for the record, it's not normal to come 'bring back someone's jacket' at two in the morning." I clarified. "So this is not all entirely my fault."

"Well you were pretty mean last night." Shane insisted, not looking too happy with his present position or this situation. "I was just trying to give you back your jacket! And you went all diva - crazy on me!"

"Hey, I am not a diva!" I retorted indignantly, shaking my head in disagreement. "You could have waited - I was coming over at 9, you know. It was pretty unnecessary for you to just 'pop in' at two in the morning!"

"I was just trying to be nice!" Shane protested, and I inwardly rolled my eyes.

"Sorry to break it to you, pop star, but basically breaking into someone's house and stalking them is not classified as 'nice'." I insisted, while Shane sat there, his arm crossed, and huffed.

"Well ex-cuse me for not knowing that." Shane pouted, and I rolled my eyes at his childish behavior. Why couldn't he just be more normal?

"Look, Shane, we could sit here and argue all day, but won't that defeat your whole 'maid' prospective?" I asked, and Shane's shoulders moved up and down in a small shrug.

"Why are you even talking to me, hmm? Why aren't you working already?" Great. G-R-E-A-T. The old Shane Gray was back.

* * *

"Are you done yet?" Shane's irritable voice snapped, and I, not for the first time, rolled my eyes before turning around to face him.

"Yes. There, are you happy now?" I replied, holding up the duster and rag I'd been using to dust his dresser. "I dusted!" I squealed excitedly, acting like another stupid insane, obsessed fan girl. "Do you want me to scrub your toilet now???" I rolled my eyes in his direction. "Or would you prefer I bow down and kiss your disgusting feet?"

"Well, as tempting as that does sound, you're not finished dusting yet. You missed a spot." He pointed towards something - the dot that wasn't there - and I frowned, leaning closer and closer.

"Nope, no spot." I announced cheerfully, clapping my hands together and doing my victory dance. "That's right, there's no spot. I'm good." Shane crossed his arms and waited impatiently for me to finish. I stopped only because I was out of breath. "Now, what do I clean next?" Shane gave a sigh - basically, saying that he was giving in, and waved towards the bathroom.

"Go scrub the toilet." He instructed, probably thinking that this was the best payback he could come up with, and I rolled my eyes. Gee, Shane, let's not work those brains too hard now.

* * *

"Ok, I'm done for the day!" I slammed the cleaning supplies down on Shane's dresser. Finally, I was free! It sure had taken long enough. Eight hours and twenty minutes I'd been in Shane Jerk Gray's company, and every minute was killing me. "See you tomorrow." I grimaced at my words, wishing I didn't have to come back. How stupid I had been, when I'd inisisted upon staying to help Shane, even though he'd given me a way out. What had I been thinking? Oh yeah, _pity_. Remind me never to pity a rockstar again, they're word twisters and mind manipulators.

"Fine." Shane replied shortly, leaving me to lead myself out of his room. "Wait, Torres." I paused, turning around to face him. He gave me a lopsided half-smile. "You're not half bad, you know?" I smiled, unsure of how to take his words, and ducked my head, exiting his room, trying to figure out what had just happened. Had Shane really just gave me a compliment? Well, _half_ a compliment, but still...

He's a jerk, right?

Now, I'm wondering if maybe there actually _is_ something inside of Shane that's decent, maybe he's just hidden it away.

Oh well, if I'm working for him, I'm bound to find out what it is. It won't take long, after all, we hate each other.

But Shane's last words left me doubting not only his ability to be human, but also our so called 'hate' that we shared.

He'd opened up to me - well, kind of - right? Before he'd gone all pop starish on me again, but still, it counted for something, didn't it?

Not that I was sure of anything anymore.

All I knew is that his half-compliment left me floating on clouds all the way back to my apartment.

Which _wasn't_ supposed to happen.


	9. Spilled Coffee

**A/N: Thank you guys again for the reviews, I appreciate each & every one! Hope you enjoy this chapter, I really liked it even though it's not super-duper long or anything. I just think it's kind of funny & fun to write. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: What? I own Camp Rock? Not.**

* * *

"So, how did you meet Shane?" I knew Mrs. Gray was just trying to make small talk, but the question had me frozen. We'd never exactly discussed how we were supposed to 'meet', and I was pretty sure that I couldn't tell Mrs. Gray the truth. I might sound a little crazy, and Shane might kill me.

_"Well, Mrs. Gray, see, I was cleaning your house with my dog when I heard Aydan barking in the other room, and I ran over only to see Shane almost get mauled by my bear-dog, and then he threatened to sue me if I didn't be his maid, and here I am!" _

I second my opinion, I think I'll just have to make something up. I glanced up to see Mrs. Gray waiting for my answer.

_"We, uhh, met at one of Connect 3's concerts."_ That would be the logical thing to say, of course, but I never was logical, was I? Instead, I blurted out the first thing that came to my mind. Which, of course, wasn't smart. Always - I repeat, again, _always_ - think before you say anything. Especially if you're coming up with a story about meeting your supposed best friend. Otherwise, things will not - again, will not - go smoothly.

"We ran into each other at Mocha's, yeah, he spilled coffee on me by accident. No biggie or anything, of course, but once we were all cleaned up then we actually talked, and I guess we just hit it off." Mrs. Gray's eyes were wide as I finished my little mini-story, I guess a one-shot, you could call it.

"Oh my goodness! You were okay, weren't you dear, though?" She asked worriedly, and it was then, of course, that I realized how stupid I had been to say that. Once Shane found out he would definitely kill me, if I was lucky.

"Yeah, I was fine. Shane couldn't stop apologizing! But really, I'm fine." Mrs. Gray's expression relaxed a little, and she turned back to sliding the cookies off of the tray. It was then, typically, that Shane chose to come into the kitchen. I groaned inwardly as Mrs. Gray smiled happily, opening her mouth.

"So, Mitchie just told me how you guys met! I can't believe you were so klutzy, spilling coffee on her." She commented, and I smacked my hand over my mouth as Shane's eyes literally popped out of his head.

"I never spilled coff-" He stopped mid-sentence, seeing my death glare, and coughed. "Uhh, yeah, klutz." He choked out instead, and I released the breath I hadn't known I'd been holding. Shane's expression said I'd be getting it later for making such an - I can hear him now, lecturing me - "absurd, ridiculous lie". "Mitch, are you coming?"

When he called me Mitch, I could feel a faint blush creeping up on my cheeks, and I absolutely hated it. Just the way I hated Shane. Right?

"Yeah." I grabbed a cookie, shooting Mrs. Gray an appreciative look, before running over to Shane and following him upstairs. Once the door had closed firmly behind him, he burst.

"Spilling coffee?" He hissed, "What the heck is _wrong_ with you? It can't just be the normal, 'we met at a concert' story? Why do you always have to _overdo_ everything? What did you even tell her, anyways?"

"Uhh..." Now I couldn't remember what had made me tell her that, and I certainly knew Shane would freak when I told him. Swallowing loudly, I paused, searching Shane's eyes for some sign of pity. Typically, there was not a trace. "Well, you see..." I stopped again, squirming under Shane's demanding gaze, trying to find a reason for not just telling Mrs. Gray the 'norm' story. "Umm..."

"Spit it out, Torres!" Shane yelled, making me jump. I nodded hurriedly, gulping in as much fresh air as I could before I started.

"Look, all I said was that we met at Mocha's. Umm, we ran into each other, which accidentally caused the coffee to spill, and after we just hit it off. See, it's really not that bad, if you think about it." Shane's face was red, and I wiped my hand across my sweaty forehead, nervously waiting for him to say something. "Or maybe if you don't think about it...?" I offered, taking a step away from Shane, biting my lip nervously.

"You are so unbelievably..." A knock at the door cut him off mid-sentence, and he pulled open his door only to be met by Mrs. Gray, smiling brightly, carrying a plate of cookies in her hand.

"Here you go you two!" She announced cheerily, pushing the plate forwards into Shane's hands, blissfully unaware of what she'd just interrupted. Shane plastered a fake smile on his face, taking the plate from her, muttering a quick thank you before re-shutting the door. Without speaking, he shoved two cookies into his mouth and swallowed. Hesitantly, I reached for one, but Shane yanked the plate away before I was even close.

"No way, none for you." He shook his head, his shaggy hair falling into his eyes, and I grumbled under my breath. Why couldn't I have just one cookie? "Now, on the subject of your insane little story that you told my mom back there... why couldn't I have come up with something that creative?" I frowned at his words; only two seconds earlier he was ready to rip off my head when I admitted what I'd told Mrs. Gray, and now he was, again, almost complimenting me? Maybe he was a little biopolar; that was the only explanation.

"What?" Yeah, I try so hard to sound smart, but it doesn't work. But anyway, this was the only thing I managed to mutter after Shane's last sentence.

"Can you guess what the answer is?" Shane continued, and I paused, thinking, before shrugging hesitantly. "Well, I'll tell you why. Because I'm not so unbelievably slow and stupid!"

And here I was thinking that Shane was about to actually say something nice.

Stupid, little naïve Mitchie.


	10. Common Girl

**A/N: This chapter is dedicated to RollercoasterRush, for leaving me such a wonderful review :) Thank you, and thank you guys, for the reviews, it has seriously inspired me. Otherwise, I would have given up on this story long ago.**

**This chapter turned out completely NOT how I was expecting it, lots of drama :) But we all love drama, right? So now it's up to you - more Smitchie hate, or Smitchie love? I kind of am leaning towards the Smitchie hate, because it's fun to write :)**

**New poll on my profile, please vote :)**

**Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own Camp Rock.**

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One week. One whole _stupid _week. One long, torturous, horrible, stinking week. Seven days. 168 hours. 10,080 minutes. 1,008,000 seconds of my life wasted. And it wasn't even close to over. Whoopee. Only 4,032,000 more seconds to go. Only 4,032,000 more seconds of being around Shane, and then I would be free.

"Oh, Mitchie..." Shane called, his voice sickly sweet, and I grumbled as I stood up, stretching my back, trying to erase the pain from being scrunched up under his bed for hours. His so-called 'chores' were killing me. I mean, really, come on, _"I need you to scrap the gum from under my bed"_. How the heck does gum get stuck under your bed? I thought that only happened in the movie theaters, but, stuck to your bed? Now, something really was not right with that. But nothing was right with Shane, anyway, so why should it be right with his gum-ridden bed?

"Should I even ask?" I stepped over the pile of clothes he'd just thrown down, shoving the bowl I'd filled to the top with all the gum I'd scraped off towards him, and he wrinkled his nose in disgust. Without speaking, he shoved it back towards me, shaking his head. Sighing, I took the bowl from his outstretched hands. Why I put up with him, even I didn't know.

"Oh quit complaining. And no, you shouldn't." He replied, and I raised my eyebrows. Oh yes I should. And I wasn't complaining - I'd actually been pretty good about keeping my cool after that night that I'd blown up on Shane. Of course, not that he gave me any credit for trying to be nice. Then again, not that he _ever_ gave me credit.

"Well, if I'm going to be cleaning it, I should at least know _why_ and _how _it got down there... even if I really don't think I want to." I shot back, frowning at the bowl that was now back in my hands. Eww, I had to get rid of it, before it really grossed me out. Moving over to his trash can, I dumped the bowl's contents into the can, stepping back over to Shane and crossing my arms.

"You're a pain, you know that, Torres?" Shane frowned, but I only raised my eyebrows at his comment. If I was a pain, well, what was he? Another thing I really didn't want to know, because I'm sure it would involve many bad words. "And, anyway, where else was I going to put it?" He snapped, and I took a deep breath, trying not to roll my eyes and smack him in the head.

"Well, duh, I don't know... gee, maybe you couldn't used the trash can over there?" I replied smartly, while Shane crossed his arms, looking ready to argue to defend himself again. Not that there was going to be any point to his argument. There never was.

"Well, duh," Shane began, and I rolled my eyes. Steal my line, go ahead, will you? "I didn't feel like getting up, and Mom would've killed me if I stuck it to the carpet." Oh. My. Gosh. Could this boy get any more stupid? I would've said it, but he might have taken it as a challenge, and I didn't think I could handle him going from dumb to dumber. Well, maybe he already was the dumber.

"Gee, good too know you're smart too." I exclaimed, and Shane rolled his eyes, glaring back at me. "Here's your bowl back." Without giving him a choice, I thrust the bowl back towards him, and, seeing that I wasn't going to be catching it if it decided to fall, he took the other end, unwillingly, of course. "Now, I've scraped the gum from under your bed, I did your laundry -" I outwardly shuddered at the image that would probably be permanently stuck in my mind, "I've re-cleaned your room, I went through your closet and got it all sorted out - by the way, really, who needs posters of themselves? Especially, umm, I don't know, thirty? A little self-obsessed, are we?" I wasn't exaggerated. I'd literally hand-counted each and every one.

"What, I can't help it, I'm totally gorgeous." He grinned, touching his hair, and I gagged at him, just to make sure he got my message, clear as he understood that the sun rose in the morning. Shane's face immediately fell, and he huffed. "Well, at least _I'm_ gorgeous. Can't say as much for you." My mouth dropped open and my eyes widened at his comment. Surely, I hadn't heard him right. I _couldn't_ have heard him right. Even he, as rude as he is, would not have said that - but seeing his triumphant, gloating expression told me that he had.

"You know what?" I stepped closer to him, fire blazing my eyes and expression - that I was sure of - making my tone threatening. "I have worked for a week, helping you with all your chores - which I haven't told your mother it was me, and not you, who did all those things - I have put up with you and your cruel jokes, and I haven't hardly complained. But that - you crossed the line, Gray, and now you'd better find someone else to be your little maid. Because I'm not just some puppet you can play with on a string, okay? And I'm _done_." I slammed the cleaning supplies down on the dresser next to him, throwing the rag carelessly to the floor, and stomped out of his room. And I would _not_ be coming back.

"Oh yeah, she wants me." I heard Shane mutter, and I screeched to a stop, spinning around in stunned shock. This boy was obviously the most arrogant, self-absorbed, egotistical, maniacal, jerk I'd ever met, and someone had to put him in his place. Unfortunately, there weren't any other volunteers, so once again, the job was left up to me.

"I don't want anything from you. I never would've thought I'd say this, but all those articles about you being a 'bad boy' - they've got you labeled so correctly. You want to know something else?" I didn't wait for Shane to respond, just continuing on with my little rant. "I used to be a fan." The utter look of shock that crossed Shane's face made me stutter for a second, but I quickly continued. "I always thought that maybe - just maybe - that there was something underneath all the 'bad boy' image, that maybe you actually were a decent human being, but now I can see how wrong I was. You're so self obsessed, you don't even realize you're a jerk. You think that the whole world revolves around _you_, but I've got news for you, honey. It doesn't. And I'm sick of putting up with your crap and your nasty, cruel jokes and your stupid obsession with your hair!" I was shouting now, but Shane was only looking on at me lazily, as if he was bored with the whole conversation. "And I am done. I don't care - go ahead and sue me!" I screamed, watching as Shane raised his eyebrow at me, fake-yawning.

"Is that all you've got to say?" He asked, and I could've just jumped on him and strangled him to death at that moment, if we hadn't been interrupted just then. And by, of all people, Mrs. Gray herself.

"_What_?" Her expression told me that she'd heard what I'd said, and now she was staring angrily in Shane's direction. "You're suing _who_?" Shane was frozen now, staring between me and Mrs. Gray, unsure of how to respond. "What is Mitchie talking about - suing her? Shane?" She glared directly at her son, who stuttered.

"Look, it's no big deal Mom, nothing to worry your pretty head about." Shane replied, but Mrs. Gray only raised an eyebrow, indicating she wasn't go anywhere until she got a clear explanation. But Shane was stubborn - I knew he wouldn't talk.

"Mitchie?" She asked instead, turning to face me, and I froze. What should I say? I glanced uncertainly towards Shane, wondering how the heck I got wrapped up in this big mess, and bit my lip. Why me, why Shane, why any of this? Why hadn't I just let him sue me?

"It's not really my place to say." I decided upon saying, since that was the truth. Shane had to be the one to tell her - he might be a jerk, but I wasn't going to stand here and rat him out, when it wasn't my place to do so. Mrs. Gray could blast him, but still, he just needed to tell her himself. I'd like her to hear it directly from Shane - I wasn't a tattletale, I never had been and I wasn't about to start now. Mrs. Gray sighed, her face softening at me, before returning her cold gaze to Shane.

"Spit it out now, Shane Adam, or it'll be the worse for you." If it had been different, I would have laughed. Who would've thought that sweet, innocent, cookie-baking queen Mrs. Gray had such a cold, harsh side to her? Shane crossed his arms, the bad boy expression returning to his face, and finally he spoke. When he did, his voice was completely monotone, except for the face it was cold and filled with malice.

"Her monster dog attacked me. It would have mauled me to death if she hadn't pulled him back. I could have been _killed_." If Mrs. Gray wasn't standing beside me, I would've rolled my eyes. Exaggerating, much? "And the sad thing? I was in my own house. Just coming down the stairs, when that beast attacked me!" His voice rose near the end, but Mrs. Gray didn't even flinch or, for that fact, I didn't see her move a muscle. She just kept staring at Shane, not blinking, with an expression that said _'continue please'. _"So I said she could either..." Shane broke off, looking at me for help, but I only hardened my expression. After what he'd said, he wasn't getting a speck of simpathy. He didn't deserve one inch of pity after his last actions. I'd never even known he could get so coldhearted. His next words, however, were cold and cut straight to the bone and were by far the worst I'd ever heard.

"Come on Mom, don't pretend like you care about her, she's just some poor, _common_ girl I rescued from the _streets_. I mean, really, look at her. She's just plain and _normal_, she's nothing special. Seriously, does she _look_ special to you?" Tears came to my eyes as I stared at his own for a split second, before turning and running down the stairs, past Jason and Nate's shocked faces, and into the street, gasping for breath. Taking off, I headed for the only place I knew I was safe. _Home_. Where there were no egotistical, heart breaking pop stars, no difference between 'commoners' and 'rich folk', and most importantly, no Shane Grays.

Because if he was the last thing I'd never see again, I'd die happy.

Zero more seconds to go.


	11. Comfort

**A/n: So, Shane decided he wasn't going to enter this chapter, and Jason took over! So here's some sweet Jitchie, everyone! (don't worry, it's not going to be Jitchie, just it's some sweet JasonxMitchie interaction, that's all) But... in two chapters, you guys will get to see some of Shane's thoughts... The 3rd chapter will be written in Shane's P.O.V. whoopee! You get free insight into his glamoured-up big fat head :) Thank you guys for all the wonderful reviews! Seriously, I was like, whoa _150_ reviews!!!! No way! I have the most awesome reviewers :) Thank you guys for being the best. **

**OMG I loved, loved, _loved_ the new Sonny episode! The best yet :) I have literally watched it three times since last night :) What did you guys think about it? I think I'm team Channy now :P**

**Also, keep checking out my profile, new poll and I'm making more banners and putting the links as I make them :)**

**Disclaimer: Yada yada... what? Who thought I owned Camp Rock? Psh, idiot :) **

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I had managed to calm myself down by the time I reached my house, quickly wiping the tears off my cheeks as I entered the apartment. Breathing heavily, my legs burning from the hard running, I pulled a bottle of water out of the fridge and collapsed on the couch, smiling as Aydan came over and jumped up beside me, lying near me. No wonder he wanted to be near me - I hadn't seen him all day.

"Hey buddy." I whispered, leaning over and burying my face in his fur, wrapping my arms around his neck. "At least you don't care if I'm just a common girl, do you?" I sniffed quietly, breathing in his scent, which was oddly comforting. Aydan turned his head towards me, his pink tongue licking my face. I laughed, rubbing his head affectionately. "And I used to wonder why you always attacked Shane and never even tried to be nice for a second." I whispered into his ears, watching him flick them curiously, before moving across the floor over to my stack of movies. Scanning them quickly, I pulled out _A Walk To Remember_ and placed it in the DVD player. I've never known why, but whenever I'm sad, I want to watch the saddest movies possible, even though they always make me more depressed.

By the end of the movie, or basically by the part where Jamie died, I was crying again, and, as horrible as it sounds, it wasn't out of sympathy for Jamie, or Landon. All I could see was Shane's cold, calculating eyes, and hear his words repeating over and over again in my head.

_"She's just a common girl... from the streets... she'll never be anything special..." _

Why did it hurt so much? All he'd said was the truth. I _was_ just a common girl, I don't have any super-special talents - I mean, I like to sing, but I wouldn't consider myself good or _special_- I was just plain old Mitchie. Normal teenage girl, living a normal, boring life. Not anything special. I was never anything special. I had only two friends; Sierra, and Mary, and everyone else either just scoffed at me - if I was lucky enough to even be noticed - or completely ignored me. I was just _nothing_ in their eyes.

"Mitchie?" My head snapped up in surprise, and I grabbed hold of Aydan's collar quickly to stop him from attacking the boy that was now standing in front of me, a worried expression on his face as he noted my tears. What was he doing here - but more importantly, how in the world did he get in?

"Jason?" I squeaked, and he frowned at my scared tone. "How did you get in my house?" Now it was Jason's turn to frown, and I watched him shrug, carefully moving closer to me. I slid over so there was room for him on the couch too, and he promptly sat down beside me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.

"Your door wasn't locked." He stated, and my eyes widened. Shoot, I'd forgotten to lock the door to my own house. Someone could have robbed me, or worse, Shane could've just walked in and caused even more damage. Thank goodness Jason came instead. "Don't worry - I locked it for you." He commented, seeing the worry flare up in my eyes. I smiled softly at him.

"Thanks Jase, you're the best." I replied, snuggling closer to him for extra warmth. Jason smiled down at me, and I saw the concern in his eyes.

"Why are you crying?" He asked, moving his finger forwards and gently wiping away a tear. I glanced down, away from his soft, sweet brown eyes and innocent face, the intense feelings once again overwhelming me. And once again, leaving me with the current question: why?

"Sad... movie." I stuttered, wiping away the fresh tears and hoping Jason wouldn't take notice. He was so sweet, and way too innocent, to get wrapped up in the current situation. I couldn't just put him in the middle - or on the spot, whichever suits you - like that, it wasn't right. Innocent, naïve Jason. Stupid, scarred Mitchie.

"Why did you run out of our house earlier? Was it..." He paused, and I closed my eyes, already knowing what he was going to ask. Oh gosh, I didn't even want to hear his name. "Shane?" Jason breathed the word, and I curled up closer to Jason, feeling - for the first time - completely, utterly vulnerable. Stupid life, stupid job, stupid Shane, stupid _me_. I was so, so, _so_stupid. "Mitchie..." Jason pulled me into a tight hug as he heard me release a strangled sob that I'd been trying to hold in. It didn't work, obviously.

"I don't get it, Jase." I cried into his shoulder, not able to help myself. Feeling his arms around me, his warm breath on my cheek, and his sympathy for me did it. I broke down right there in his arms. "I tried, I really did. I didn't mean to blow up at him that night he came over, it's just... it was two in the morning! I tried _so_hard to make up for it - I didn't complain and I just did as I was told. I even let Shane have all the cookies..." Haha, I had to laugh at myself. I sounded like a five year old again. But I couldn't help it - when it came to cookies, Mrs. Gray made the best I've ever tasted. They were to die for, seriously. "I tried, and he just kept blasting me down... and I can't take it... and what he said..." I broke off, crying hysterically, as I clung to Jason's jacket, burying my face in his neck as I cried.

"What did he say, Mi?" Jason asked softly, wrapping me closer to him, and I sobbed harder as that moment replayed again in my head. Instead of answering him directly, I pulled back and stared up into Jason's eyes.

"Am I really just a common girl?" I asked, and I saw Jason's eyes grow wide. Shaking his head, he leaned back against the couch, his hand running through his hair.

"Mi, how can you even think that? You're unlike any other girl I've ever met. Talented, sweet, and not at all arrogant or mean. You're so far from common. You're not even close - you're really different, Mi. Special different." Another word that hit the spot. _Special. _Just what Shane had said I wasn't, and here Jason was telling me the exact opposite. Fresh tears were streaming down my cheeks, because I knew Jason was telling me the truth. I could see from his eyes he wasn't lying, and it really touched me.

"But I don't see it that way." I admitted. "All my life, I've just been plain Mitchie Torres. I never was the ambitious one, never the pretty one, never the popular one, never the romantic one, never the _cliché _one. I was just Mitchie Torres, Official Boring Person winner." I chuckled at the memory, even though it was inappropriate at the moment; if all those girls had seen me right now, they'd know I was anything but boring. "And the official 'We Hate Mitchie Torres Petition' winner, too."

"What?" Jason's face was full of confusion and... anger? Why should he care if I got bullied in school, or if there was a petition out against me? "What do you mean?" I snuggled closer to him again, thinking back to my days in school. I'd never wanted to relive those days - so full of hurt, bullying, pain, and anger. Anger at myself for not being better, for not fitting in, for being so susceptible to their games.

"Some girls that hated me gathered up this idea to make a petition one day, and somehow they managed to get over half the school to sign it. The "We Hate Mitchie Torres" petition, well that's what they called it, anyway." I bit my lip, remembering the hurt I'd felt at seeing all the names on the list; the popular girls had shoved it in my face after everyone had signed it. I sure hadn't been expecting so many - and some certain - people to sign it. It still hurt thinking about it.

"Mi, I wish you'd told me all this earlier." Jason's soft words hit me, and I ducked my head into his chest, tears falling freely now. "Mi, what's wrong now?" Jason gently moved me back until I was staring at him. I smiled through my tears, wondering why in the world he was so nice.

"It's just, you're so sweet." I cried, "I don't deserve this, this special treatment you're giving me; being so nice and coming over here and making me feel better and..." Jason put a hand to my lips, stopping my rambling. I couldn't say I wasn't grateful - I was starting to babble like an idiot. Poor Jason, having to deal with a boy who thinks he's everything and more, and a hormonal teenage girl crying her heart out to him.

"No need to thank me, Mi, you know I'm here for you. It's the least I can do, anyways, considering you two are my best friends." Jason's words brought tears to my eyes - not because I was upset, but because his words warmed my cold heart. He really was the sweetest guy I'd ever met, and the only one that had proved he truly cared about me. And not just me in general, but everyone. He was just friendly and outgoing like that.

"Wait - 'you _two_'?" I asked, confused, and Jason chuckled, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, and I was blind for not seeing what he meant. I wouldn't be surprised if he had another best friend - heck, it wouldn't surprise me if he told me he had twenty best friends - but he'd said 'you two are my best friends' not 'my two best friends'. Which, with my current state of mind, had me pretty confused.

"You and Aydan, Mi." I smiled at Jason; once again, sweet, innocent Jason. I didn't know how he could be so loving, and so caring, but I didn't care. He was what I needed right now, he was what I would need in the future. Even though I'd only met him a week ago, he was one of those life-long buddies you just don't let go of - ever. The kind you know are there to help you through the rough, and to make you laugh when you're down, and to turn your frowns into smiles. It was cheesy, but it was Jason.

"You're seriously the best, Jase. I can't thank you enough... just thank you." I wrapped my arms around him, hugging him tighter, feeling content. There was something about Jason that just made everything right. You _couldn't_ be upset around Jason; he always found a way to build you up and make you feel... well, just content. It was his gift, if that's what you wanted to call it.

"It's no problem, Mi, if you ever need to talk, well, I'm always here." He smiled warmly, and I couldn't bring myself to tell him that I wouldn't be coming back. I'd probably never see him again - well, not in person, that is. On TV, the radio, and posters, but not in person. There was no reason for me to go back over to the Grays' house, and anyway, they were leaving in three weeks. But I couldn't crush Jason, I'd only ruin the moment for both of us. Instead of speaking, I hugged him tighter, burying my face into his shirt and just taking in his smell, the comfortable silence, and the content feeling in my heart.


	12. What Are BFFs For?

**A/N: THANK YOU FOR THE REVIEWS!!!!! Seriously, you guys never cease to amaze me! Haha, next time I check, it'll probably reach 200 (I hope :)... at which point I would die! *lol* So, once again... Shane has managed to avoid confronting Mitchie, but we won't let him escape much longer :) And Mary was arguing about how she's been vacant from this story long enough :P Well, I wanted to add a whole other part, but I realized this was getting kind of long, so I cut it short and it will be in the next chapter. **

**I wish I had a friend like Mary, as I'm sure all of us do. :( You'll see what I mean later on :)**

**Disclaimer: Yes, shocker, but I don't own Camp Rock. Sadly :(**

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I tossed around in the bed, trying unsuccessfully to get comfortable. Jason had left hours ago; it had been getting late and he had to get back for dinner. Ever since, I'd been trying to sleep, but it seemed that wasn't going to work. Aydan shifted his weight as I, once again, unintentionally kicked his side.

"I'm so sorry, baby." I whispered in his direction, pulling the covers up around my neck. It was so hot, but I couldn't stand being left uncovered. It wasn't working; uncovered, I was freezing, and covered, I felt like I was burning up. It was just one of _those_nights. You know, the ones where you're sick to your stomach, and every-thing's wrong no matter what, and you're wide awake all night because you just can't sleep. That night, it's just not _possible_to kick back, get comfortable, and fall asleep peacefully.

"I'm going to get some water, I'll be right back." I told Aydan, sliding out from under the covers and sitting up as my feet touched the cold floor. "Stay." I ordered, and Aydan obediently laid back, not trying to get up along with me. I tip-toed across the floor, my feet freezing for some odd reason, and pulled a bottle of water out of the fridge, making my way back to the bedroom. Aydan glanced up as I returned to my previous position.

"It's not right." I spoke, watching as Aydan's ears flicked, signalling to me that he was listening. "I just don't get it. I wish I could just rewind time... I'd never have taken that job in the first place. It would've saved so much trouble, so many issues, so much heartbreak..." I paused, surprised at the words I'd just uttered. I couldn't have really begun to like Shane that much over the course of the week, when he'd been so nasty and just mean to me, to really call it heartbreak, could I? Thinking about the pain in my heart, I had to say that the answer was yes. _Yes, _it was intense enough to call heartbreak.

"I'm so stupid, Aydan. How did I allow myself to fall in love with someone who's so wrapped up in himself, he doesn't even have the ability to care about anyone else? Why did I have to fall for someone who hates every part of me, everything I am?" I whispered, shaking my head at my own foolishness. How could I have been _so stupid_?

Aydan moved closer, leaning his body into mine and resting his head on my hand, as if it tell me that I wasn't stupid, and it wasn't my fault, and that, at least, he still loved me. At least I had Aydan; if I didn't, I wasn't sure what I would do. I'd probably have gone crazy a long time ago.

"I love you, Ay." I rubbed his forehead, smiling at his cute face, and leaned over, feeling my nightstand for my cell phone. I couldn't sleep - that, I already knew - and I needed to talk to someone... and what does one have a best friend for except to call up at midnight and ramble on about your heartache?

I dialed Mary's number, not needing to look at my contact list. I knew her number by heart; we'd been friends for eight years, it would've been pretty sad if I didn't. I know people who have been friends for one, two years, and their numbers are permanently engraved in their hearts. I remember a while ago, a girl telling me that she still remembered her ex friend's number, even though they hadn't spoken in six years. With best friends, things ran deep, that much I knew. I pressed the phone to my ear and waited for her to pick up.

She answered on the second ring.

"Mitchie?" She mumbled tiredly, and I instantly felt bad for waking her up. What kind of cruel friend was I, bothering her in the middle of the night just because I wasn't able to get any sleep? At least she should be able to, if I couldn't. Better to only have one tired, instead of both. "It had better be a situation of life or death, because if it's anything else, I'll kill you." She spoke up again, and I grinned. Same old Mary, whether she was awake or half asleep.

"Hey, I'm so sorry for waking you up, I just can't sleep and I needed to talk to you... but it's okay, it can wait until morning... go back to sleep." I spoke softly, but Mary was already awake, I could tell. I could hear her grunt as she probably turned on her light and sat up, rubbing her tired eyes. All because of me.

"You woke me up, so now talk, Torres." This, of course, isn't Mary being rude, it's just, well... her being Mary. I sighed loudly, pulling my pillows up as I sat up so I could lean against them. "What's wrong?"

"Everything." I answered quietly, glancing down at my fingernails as I talked. "I never should have agreed to this - I should have just let him sue me. It would have saved me so much pain and heartache..." I was cut off by a now obviously wide away Mary.

"Heartache? What the heck, Mi, who's butt am I kicking now?" Her tone was sharp, and I knew she was serious. She'd re-fly out here just to beat Shane up for being, well, himself. Not that I would try to stop her or anything. I wished I was as strong as her; she always seemed to be so tough and confident, whereas I was always the shy, cautious one, never wanting to hurt anyone or say something I regretted later. Always the good girl, the one that every parent wishes their child would grow up to be. And yet, it had only caused so much trouble, that all I could do was wish that I was more like Mary.

"I'll be fine, Mary, it'll pass soon, I'm sure." Total lie right there, somehow Shane had managed to find a place in my heart, that was until he tore himself out as roughly as possible and left me to pick up pieces that he'd broken in the process. _As usual_. I was always stepped on, always crushed, and always left to heal myself. No one ever offered to even help. Except for Mary.

"Cut the crap, Mi, even over the phone I can tell you're lying. Now, tell me what happened, so I know the reason I'm flying out to New Jersey." I smiled at her words; she really would come in a second if I asked her to. She'd be right here, by my side, helping me stand up on my own two feet again. But I couldn't ask that of her - she had a life too, and I couldn't hold her back from living it.

"It's nothing..." I heard her groan from the other end, "Okay, fine, it's Shane. He... he... ugh, he makes me so mad and sickened that I want to cry and scream at the same time. I don't get it - I hate him, and yet I don't... and I think just today he broke my heart..." I choked on a sob rising in my throat, and I heard Mary growl, and I could just picture her packing her bags already.

"Tell me what happened, sweetie, and I'll take care of it, I promise." I broke down, crying, and told her everything, from the day Shane had came over at two in the morning, to what had happened just this morning. Talking to her helped - I'd known I needed to talk to her, and everything would be better, and I was so glad I hadn't waited until morning. "Mi, you're anything but common - and I mean that in a good way. I wish you could see how truly special you are, and Shane is a jerk for not realizing that he just let go of one of the most amazing, real girls he'll probably ever meet. And if he can't see how special you are, then he's not worth your time or your tears. He's the one that's missing out, not you, trust me dear." I smiled through my tears at Mary's words. Two different people telling me almost the same thing... how come I was the only one who couldn't see what they were talking about? If I really was so good and amazing, why did I doubt myself so much?

"Mi, I know what you're thinking about, and don't you dare even try to get away with it. You need to step up and realize what an inspiration you are to all of us. Stop doubting yourself for two seconds, and just be confident with who you are, because who you are is an amazing person. Just trust me and let the Mitchie I know shine a little, will you?"

"But... what about that 'we hate Mitchie Torres' petition back in middle school? That surely didn't mean nothing, and it surely didn't mean I was an _amazing_ person." I returned, although I knew I shouldn't let it bother me. I should just take Mary's advice and _stop doubting myself_.

"Mi, can't you see?" Mary asked in shock, and I frowned at her tone. See what? What was there to see? "Those girls were - and still are - jealous of you. You're everything they can't be, and you don't walk around like you're something major; you're just _you_. And they're so jealous because that's all they want - they want to just be themselves and not care about what others think about themselves or try to fit in. They don't hate you - they hate the fact they can't be you." My mouth dropped open at Mary's mini-speech. Was she really right? Had they really been jealous of me? I couldn't see why; there was nothing special about me, and certainly nothing to be jealous about.

"And don't you say it's not true, Mi, because it is. Why, heck, can't you see that _I'm_ jealous of you?" Mary's words left me speechless, in utter shock. Mary - jealous of _me?_ But... I was jealous of her, how could that work?

"And I'm jealous of you. You're always so tough and confident, and you just have this air about you..." I trailed off, uncertain of what to say next, but Mary knew just when to cut in, it seemed.

"Honey, I'm vunerable just like you. Everyone is, in some way, to something. Everyone has their weaknesses, and their imperfections. I'm definitly not perfect, or anyone worthy to be jealous of. I've put on a tough exterior so that people won't know that they really bother me. So that they won't see the broken, blind person underneath. It's just a front, sweetie. In the same way you're pretending like you don't care about Shane was a protection for you. How you pretend to still hate him just so that he won't know, because you feel like you're not worthy. When in reality, it's him that doesn't deserve you."

"I cannot thank you enough for being the best friend in the entire universe. I don't know what I would do without you, Mary." I replied softly, all her words 'of wisdom' filling my head, crowding out any thoughts of Shane and most doubts lurking in my mind. "I wish there was a 'Best Friend Forever' award, you would win hands down."

"Thanks Mi, now I think it's a little past your bedtime, if I do say so myself. And my eyes are shutting of their own accord. But just remember: It's _him_ that doesn't deserve you. And don't you forget that, or I'll have to come kick _you're_ butt too." I laughed, saying goodbye, and we both hung up. I slid down under the covers again, staring up at my ceiling, smiling at Mary's words.

_"And if he can't see how special you are, then he's not worth your time or your tears. He's the one that's missing out, not you."_

Well then why did it feel like it was the other way around?


	13. Key

**A/N: So, the chapter in Shane's P.O.V. is here :) I hope you'll all enjoy it, although I think it sucked a little :(**

**Ok, so I have a question. I could stick to my original story line and have a happy, Smitchie ending, or... *yes, there is a BIG or* I could completely change the outcome. Shane could have a little 'condition', but the thing is... if I go with Shane having a 'issue' *can't say what it is now*, Smitchie's ending WILL be tragic. (Which, put simply, means Shane will die) So, it is time for a little voting :) Just know that if you choose B, the whole story will go in a different direction. Be warned :)**

**A) Smitchie gets their happy ending :)**

**B) Smitchie gets a tragic ending :(**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Camp Rock.**

* * *

I didn't mean to say it, I really didn't. I hadn't been expecting on saying anything like it, truth be told. But she'd put me on the spot, even though I'd known that she wasn't just going to blab out that I'd wanted to sue her and instead made her my maid, and all I'd known was that I had to change the subject - right then, as soon as possible, and that I couldn't give her a direct answer. So I did the first thing that came to mind - and now it appears I should have thought about it.

I can honstly say that I instantly regretted it.

I still can see the shock and pain etched in Mitchie's fine face, the tears already springing forward as my words cut into her, like deep knives. I can still feel the urge to run after her, when she turned and fled, her eyes red and her face broken. I could still see Mom's hard, disappointed, and shocked expression as she shook her head, only angered more by my words.

I couldn't help it. The minute I'd heard Mom's voice cut in, I'd known that she'd heard the last part of Mitchie's sentence, if that was even all she'd heard. Truth be told, I'd been surprised that she wasn't outside digging my grave right now. But stupid me, I'd already gone and dug it for her.

* * *

"Paul!" Mom called, dragging me down to the living room, where Nate was sitting. I frowned; normally, Jason followed Nate around like some little puppy dog, but now he wasn't anywhere in sight, and I didn't hear him out calling birds in the back yard, either. Not that I really cared, of course, but it just seemed... _weird_. "Paul, family meeting, now!" I groaned as Dad came down the stairs, glancing between Mom's angry, about-to-explode-at-any-second look, and my annoyed scowl, and Nate's confused expression as he watched the two of us - probably his only hint at what to going on was Mitchie running out of the house only minutes earlier. Mom sat, pulling me down with her, and Paul seated himself across from us, besides Nate.

"You will not _believe _what your son just did!" Mom exclaimed, and I leaned back against the couch, my arms crossed determinedly. I would not give in, I was Shane Gray, international, world famous pop star! "You know that sweet girl, Mitchie, who's been coming over?" She asked, and I rolled my eyes, sliding down a little as I noticed my father's eyes on me, slowly realizing a little of what was going on. Nate was only staring at me in disappointment, not even a hint of surprise on his face. How come everyone seemed to just _expect_ trouble from me, without even asking _why_.

"Yeah, she seems like a sweetheart." Dad commented, and I pursed my lips together, knowing that with both Mom and - soon to be - Dad, angry at me, my fate was going to surely be sealed. No hope left now, not even one little, tiny speck. "Nice, down to earth girl. What about her?"

"Shane has just said by far the worst thing that's ever come out of his mouth - and, oh it gets worse too, to her _face_. The poor girl just started crying and ran right away, and Shane doesn't even care or, far worse, think that he's even wrong." Dad turned to me, a harsh, disapproving look written on his face. I gupled once, swallowing my fears, and sat up straighter.

"Is this true?" Dad asked, and I shook my head. Mom's eyes widened in disbelief and she shook her head, looking close to tears at my behavior, but I had to defend myself, or at least try. Shane Gray was not someone who admitted he was wrong, ever, because, quite frankly, he just wasn't. Gosh, I need to stop talking about myself in third person.

"I was just telling her the truth!" I protested, and Mom buried her head in her hands, while Dad sat on with a scowl on his face, listening to me feed the three of them with lies. "That's it - nothing but the truth." I continued, before Dad raised a hand, signalling me to stop all this insanity.

"What exactly did you say?" He asked instead, and once again, I felt a moment's weakness, just a hint of fear, a flicker of regret, before it passed and the normal Shane returned. The one who didn't care about _anyone_ except for himself. The one who was sitting here protecting his own butt.

"Well, I... just told her the truth! I don't know why she took it so hardly!" At that, Mom's head came away from her hands, her mouth open in disbelief, and I could see the plain, utter disappointment in her eyes before she turned to Dad.

"I can tell you why. I have never, ever, in all my years, imagined that I'd end up with such a disrespectful son, one who cares only for himself and doesn't even care about the poor girl who he's just crushed! Repeat what you said, repeat it this instant, Shane Adam Gray!" She demanded, and truth be told, I've never been so afraid of Mom in my whole life as I was at this moment. Immediately, I obeyed.

"'She's just some poor, common girl I rescued from the streets. She's just plain and normal, she's nothing special. Seriously, does she look special to you?" I repeated, without a moment's hesitation, and watched as both Dad's and Nate's jaws dropped open, even before I'd finished. Nate was the first to recover, while Mom and Dad just sat on in silence.

"You said _what_? And of all people to blow up on, Mitchie! The girl who's done nothing more than been nice to you and put up with you when, quite frankly, I don't even know how she dealt with you! Look at you, you're just some pop star who let the fame get to his head and pushes everyone away without a second thought, because he's _'above them_'. If I was her, I would've beat you up and left the first day. Or better yet, I never would have come. You know, I knew your attitude was bad, but even I never expected _this_." He spat, standing up and leaving abruptly, leaving me stunned. Nate, in all the years I've known him, has never once blown up on anybody. And I mean, _nobody_. Ever. It just wasn't him to blow up randomly without any warning.

"Nate's right, Shane." My shocked eyes raised to meet Dad's truthful ones, and I couldn't believe my own ears. How dare they side, and worse, agree with Nate without even giving me a chance? This wasn't fair; wasn't fair one bit. "I have never, ever been so disappointed with you in my entire life." Dad got up, following Nate, and I was left with the overwhelming sense of favoritism - and it wasn't for me, either -, and realizing exactly how unfair this was.

"Now, what do you suppose you'll do to fix this?" Mom asked. I turned in surprise; since Dad and Nate had left, I'd just figured that she'd gone, too. But no, here she was, sitting beside me, staring at me, waiting for my answer. Truth be told, I hadn't even been thinking about making it up to her.

"I don't know, I just figured she'd come back in her own due time. Nothing I _can_ do about it. She'll come around, and when she does, she'll be back." Mom gave a small scream of disbelief, looking like she wanted to strangle me right then and there. However, she took a deep breath and quickly regained control.

"No, young man, you're going over to her house and apologizing - no, more than just apologizing, you're going to actually _mean_it too. And you're going to make it up to her - do something nice for her, and I'm not giving you any ideas, you're going to have to come up with something yourself. Get it together, Shane, and you're going over to Mitchie's to take care of this. Be glad I'm letting you off this easily. Just be glad I didn't tell your father the other half of the story. Can you imagine? And could you imagine, if you refuse to apologize and do something nice for Mitchie, think about what'll happen when I tell your father the whole story." She smiled, but it was only one full of evilness, and left promptly, not a trace of sympathy in her voice. How the heck was I supposed to 'make it up to Mitchie' and 'do something nice' for her when there was only about four hours of daylight left?

Oh well, I'd just do it tomorrow, then.

* * *

"Here you are." Jason stepped into my room, giving me a cold, hard glare before throwing something towards me. I caught it swiftly, staring at the object, wondering why the heck Jason had given it to me, before glancing back up towards Jason, holding the small, cold object up in confusion.

"What's this for? It's a _key_, Jason, you do know that, right. Because -" Jason held up a hand, shaking his head, and I could see that he was angry with me, although I wasn't sure why, since he hadn't been around for the big 'family meeting'. How could he even know what was going on, unless... well, Nate had probably told him. But still, Jason was always just... _clueless_.

"I know what it is." When Jason spoke, it actually sent chills down my spine. It wasn't Jason's voice; no, his tone had been replaced with cold, harsh, bitter pity, and anger - and I knew it wasn't sympathy for me.

"Well then, what's it for? It just a key, nothing more. What am I supposed to do with a _key_?" I exclaimed, feeling like tossing the key back towards his head; maybe I'd be lucky and hit him just for him being a pain.

"It's Mitchie's." Jason's sentence sent my annoyed rambling to a dead stop. "And I think you know what you're supposed to do with it." He commented simply, and I felt a growl arise in my throat. There really was no way out of this, was there? No one was going to let me have a break until I did so. The sooner I went over, the better for me. Maybe they'd get off my back for a while.

"How the heck did you get a key to Mitchie's apartment?" I retorted instead, and Jason rolled his eyes, knowing I what I was avoiding.

"She gave it to me, because I had to go over and clean up the mess you left, Shane. As usual. If only you knew..." He broke off, turning his cool gaze to me. "But you don't deserve to know."

"Come on, Jase..." I started to protest, hoping to cut him off, but his glance only hardened. Seeing him like this only worried me. What had Mitchie done to the cluelsss, _stupid_ Jason that I was starting to like much better, now that I saw the other side of him and what he could be.

"One more thing," He muttered, stepping towards me until we were face to face, making me back away slightly as he hovered above me, looking threateningly menacing, "If you hurt her again, I will personally see it as my job to kill you." He stepped back, making his way towards my door, leaving me scared speechless. "Oh, sweet dreams." He smiled brightly, showing off his white teeth, and slammed the door behind him.

* * *

I rolled, tossing my comforter off of me angrily. Why couldn't I get to sleep? Glancing over, I saw that my clock read _one thirty_, and I growled, slamming my pillow in frustration. Why the heck wasn't I able to just roll over and go to sleep? What was so hard about that? My body should know by now that it didn't get enough sleep as it was; it shouldn't be trying to keep me up so late, because it knew I always had to get up early.

_One thirty-four._

Biting my lip, not out of puzzlement or confusion, but out of anger, my fist connected with my pillow. I felt like screaming in frustration - do you know what it's like to just _lie_ in bed, wanting nothing more to sleep, but for some reason, you don't have the ability to close your eyes? You're uncomfortable, you're head's spinning, whatever it is, it's just plain annoying.

_One thirty-seven._

Oh, what the heck. If I couldn't sleep, I might as well take the time to go fix things with Mitchie. It's not like I was going to sleep, anyways. And it wasn't like she wasn't used to me just 'popping in'.

_Two o'clock_ and I'm gone.

* * *

**End Notes: Ok, so once again:**

****

**A) Smitchie gets their happy ending :)**

**B) Smitchie gets a tragic ending :(**

**It's all up to you guys :)**

**Hope you guys enjoyed, R&R!**

**_*midnightwriter1898*_**


	14. Dreams

**A/N: 40 reviews???? *eyes pops out* No way!!!! You guys are by far the BEST reviewers ever... thank you! I wish I could thank you all personally, but I barely have enough time to write :( So THANK YOU to all of you, whether you're a reviewer, or just a reader. Every hit is special to me :) Although I love reviews :)**

**Okay, so this is the latter part after Mary & Mitchie's talk, but it had gotten too long, so I just added it as another chapter. This is mostly just a dream, although I think you'll all like the end :) **

**Enjoy and review :)**

**Disclaimer: I do not - don't - own CR.**

* * *

Finally, feeling content after my talk with Mary, my eyes managed to close. _Finally. _Still, it seemed that normal sleep wasn't something that I was going to be getting tonight. I couldn't help but still toss and turn, moaning occasionally and probably kicking Aydan quite a few more times, unfortunate for Aydan. My 'sleep' consisted of restlessness and haunting dreams.

_"We hate you, yes you, you pathetic little, never-going-to-be-anything Mitchie Torres. And it's not just us that feel that way, don't worry." Hannah exclaimed, flicking back her perfectly blonde highlighted hair, shoving a pink piece of paper towards my face. Alice and Daisy, Hannah's two clones, giggled in the background. All watching me closely as I grabbed at the paper. All chuckling about something that I didn't know, but soon would. _

_Feeling confused, I picked up the paper before it could fall, and instantly wished I hadn't looked at it. Hurt, betrayal, anger... I dropped it right away, feeling as if I'd been burned, and Barbie *as I liked to call her, if you were wondering, that's my nickname for Hannah* and the two clones laughed relentlessly. Excited at my hurt expression. Excited about the tears they knew were soon to come. Excited about the fact they'd managed to crush me. _

_'We Hate Mitchie Torres'... a petition. A stinking painful petition. The cruelest, most ruinous thing they'd done so far, and here they were laughing like it was all just some kind of jokes. Like there wasn't a girl left who wasn't broken, tattered, and crushed. Shattered. Trying to hold back my tears, I stepped away from them, making my way towards the bathroom, where I could hide and no one would see the trail of tears they'd left behind._

_Before I could reach my destination, or was even close to reaching it, a hand reached out, grasping my arm, stopping me in my tracks. It pulled me closer, and I could feel a warm presence beside me, whispering reassuringly to me. Telling me that I would make it through this._

_"It's fine, Mitchie. That was in the past; this is the future." I furrowed my eyebrows together as I turned around, noting the fact that Shane - yes, Shane - was pulling my arm, motioning for me to follow him through the throng of people. It appeared that we were at some sort of party, and Shane was smiling at me like an idiot. His hand was on my wrist, and I confusedly followed him, pushing through the large crowd. Why I was choosing to trust him, I didn't know. Somehow, I just knew I was so stupid to allow him to lead me to... wherever he was leading me._

_Shane led me up to a table, and, grinning stupidly, released my hand as he climbed up onto the table. Frowning, now even more confused, I watched as Shane grabbed the microphone from the DJ's hand and stood on the table, smiling down at me. I covered my mouth, partly out of fear of what he was planning on doing._

_"Mitchie Torres." He began. Oh no, this could not be good. "Mitchie Torres, as we know her, is just a common girl, yet somehow she manages to find a way to appear as if she's more than just that." Oh... no. I wasn't quite sure to take that as a compliment, or just a repeat of what he'd said earlier. Only said in a nicer way, of course. Shane smiled cockily, reaching down and pulling me up next to him, and leaning over, his head so close to me that I could feel his breath on my neck. Oh no, he's leaning closer now. I closed my eyes, half expecting him to kiss me, but a few seconds later, when I still didn't feel his lips, I re-opened my eyes, jumping back slightly at how close Shane's brown orbs were to mine. I could still feel his breath as he continued. "And we all know that Mitchie Torres is just nothing. And we _all_ hate her. _I_ hate her." _

_I stared in horror at Shane's upwardly curved lips, smiling in mockery, and bit back the tears at everyone's shouts and fists of agreement - for Shane. They all hated me. I really was just a common girl, no better than Dandruff Danny from back home... I jumped off the table, willing myself to be able to hold back my emotions until I made it to somewhere where there wasn't people, where they wouldn't know how much they tore me apart with their howls and laughs._

_And, once again, a hand stopped me before I could escape, pulling me back towards whoever had hold of me._

_"It'll be okay." The voice said comfortingly, and I was spun around to see Jason's sad eyes surveying my face, and he pulled me into a hug, still whispering, "It's okay, it'll be okay." I didn't try to hold back the tears any longer, burying my face into his shoulder, once again I cried. "Shane will come around... hopefully." The way he said the last part told me everything I needed to know. Shane wasn't going to come around. Jason already knew that, he was only trying to make things better for me. Even if it meant lying so I wouldn't be hurt._

_"I just don't know Jase, I'm not sure things will ever be the same, with how messed up things are between me and Shane. Well, I mean, not that they were ever right, I'm just saying... more messed up. And it's all so confusing..." I ranted, clutching to his jacket, shoving my face deeper into his shirt until it was so hot I almost couldn't breathe._

_"It'll be okay, things will be right, it'll be okay..." He continued to whisper, his breath hot against my cheek as he still pulled me tighter, engulfing me in his comforting hug. I couldn't help but feel safe and gracious for how entirely sweet he was being to me. It wasn't fair._

_"Thank you Jason, thank you for being there for me, I don't know how I can repay you, ever..." I rambled, raising my head to smile at Jason's gentle eyes, and then screamed. Shane's confused eyes followed me as I jumped back, away from him, away from the couch, as far away as possible. _

_"What are you doing?" Shane yelled as I stumbled backwards blindly, my heart racing, his eyes wide, although his words weren't matching his worried expression. "I hate you, I hate you, I'll never like you like you like me. Never, it's just a _dream_. Just a dream that you believed..." I continued to back away, and to my horror, backed straight up to my open window. Letting out a earsplitting cry, I toppled backwards, vainly flailing, hoping to catch myself. I didn't. I just continued to fall, fall, fall... Waiting to feel the pain as I smashed to the ground, waiting for the splat that would come. Just waiting, waiting, waiting while falling._

_"Just a dream, just a dream, just a dream..." It just keep repeating itself, over and over, and even though I knew it was the truth, I couldn't stop screaming. _

My eyes snapped open, and I realized that I had been screaming. My chest rising and falling rapidly, my breath coming in short gasps, Aydan watching with wide, almost nervous, eyes, and someone shaking me awake... Who was shaking me awake?

"Wake up Mitch, it's just a dream!" The person exclaimed, and I screamed again, jumping up, away from the stranger's touch. I stumbled, feeling desperately for my nightlamp, which now seemed to have just disappeared. Still screaming as the person desperately tried to shush me, coming closer to me, trying to catch up to me... I jumped at the stranger's touch and shoved them away, yelling my head off.

"Mitchie! _Mitchie_!" At his voice, I stopped, finally managing to find the light switch. I froze as the light fell upon his face; his hurt, worried, face, and probably showed him my shocked, scared one.

"Shane?"


	15. Confrontations

**A/N: Whoohoo! Here is the chapter you guys have been waiting for since, like, I think chapter ten! It has arrived! Hopefully, you guys will enjoy it, if you guys want there is still room for a little more Smitchie hate... or I could just make it Smitchie :) It'll probably mostly be Smitchie (as of now), because I am in an extremely good mood because... I got tickets to Demi's tour!!!! And their pretty good, too :):):) **

**Disclaimer: I don't own CR, but that doesn't matter at the moment :) Demi Lovato Summer Tour tickets!!**

* * *

"Shane? What the heck are you doing..." I trailed off, feeling a flicker of fear at the fact that Shane and I were alone, in the empty apartment, with a bunch of neighbors that wouldn't wake up if there was a tornado outside. They wouldn't even wake if the floor split straight down the middle and opened up and swallowed them up. "What the heck..." Once again, I swallowed, trying to figure out what would be the best route for escape.

"Just give me a second, Mitch..." Shane began, holding up his hands as if in mock surrender, but I cut him off. No, I wouldn't 'give him a second chance'. Not after what he'd done. He didn't _deserve_ a second chance. What he'd said had just cut too deep for me to act all happy and bubbly, like it didn't bother me. Because it had.

"You know what, you've done enough damage for today, why don't you just leave already? And my name isn't Mitch, it's _Mitchie_. Only my friends call me Mitch." I wasn't sure where all this new-found confidence had come from, considering just a second ago I'd been ready to run for it, but I wasn't going to argue. Shane had no right to just come in here at - oh my gosh, not again - two in the morning and just demand some of my time, especially after what he'd said today. "So you can just leave now, before my foot kicks you in the butt." I spat, feeling my throat closing at the stress, and all the upset, angry feelings surfacing again.

"Look." Shane's voice was suddenly hard and cold, and I stopped in my tracks, for a second afraid of his sudden attitude change. "You're going to hear me out." His tone of voice told me that, whether he deserved it or not, I _was_ going to be listening to him. Well, I've only got one thing to say: He'd better apologize, or else, this wasn't going to get any prettier. Not that it was pretty, of course. I only meant it would get uglier... than it already was, if that's possible.

"Fine. Sit." I motioned to the couch, and Shane rolled his eyes but still moved and flopped down on the couch, staring at me expectantly. I, however, wasn't moving. No way would I sit down next to him; be so close to him. No way in heck. "Speak already." I instructed, feeling unsettled by the eerie silence that had clouded the air - and my breathing space. Shane sighed loudly, realizing I wasn't going to sit also, and opened his mouth.

"Look, I'm not really sure why I'm even over here. You hate me, I hate you, and I would think that would be the end of the story, but apparently, it's not. So, I'm not going to beat around the bush or anything." Well, this was certainly off to a great start. Not. If anything, I had a feeling that Shane was just going to make matters ten times worse. "It wasn't my idea to come here. My mom forced me into it, and I just couldn't sleep, so I'd figured I'd just go ahead and get it out of the way." Ok, I take that back. I _knew_ for certain Shane was going to make this situation worse now. Stupid pop-star-headed Shane. "Nate's mad at me, Jason's mad at me, Dad's mad and disappointed, and same with Mom. And I already know you're mad at me, so if you're planning on getting sassy with me, well then..." He broke off, sighing. "I guess I deserve it anyway." What. The. Heck. No way.

That surprised me. Considering how he'd started off his little 'speech', I'd expected his major ego to take over and make me want to smack him upside the head. He went from jerky pop star to uncomfortable, guilty, tiny man in just a matter of a sentence. I'd never be able to understand his big fat head and his mood swings, that much was for certain. One second, there was the Shane that made me hurt and cry, and then there was the other side of Shane, the one that made me want to curl up closer to him and forgive him. If only one Shane would just choose to stay permanently, instead of always switching around.

"Before you cut in with your opinion - which you happen to have a lot of, by the way - don't think that I actually mean that. Well, I do, but... what I mean, don't get all sassy on me, it's really a pain in the butt and rather... _sassy_." Gee, way to go Shane, keep up the great work, why don't you? Can't even stay nice for three seconds before major ego takes over. "Anyways, back to the subject. I may have been forced to apologize, but you probably should know that I didn't really mean what I said about you." I bit back my lip, his harsh words from earlier once again raining down on me. "I really didn't." He repeated quietly, his eyes searching mine. He seemed so small then, staring at me hesitantly to see if I was accepting his apology. I turned my gaze to my feet, still unsure of whether to just kick him out, or to believe his apology and possible get hurt even more down the road.

"And it wasn't completely Mom's fault that I'm here right now. I'm not quite sure what it was - I seem to remember feeling it a long time ago, just maybe - but it was an overwhelming feeling that I needed to at least try to make things right. And that what I said wasn't right, and that you didn't deserve it. And I knew that if I came over here and, uhh, apologized, then maybe it'd go away."

"Shane?" I cut in, stopping his ramble mid-track by rolling my eyes. "It's called _guilt._ What you were - are - feeling, is guilt." I filled him in, and he nodded, as if he'd known that all along. It really was a sad thing how fame really screwed everyone up in the end. No one could ever get away from it's manipulating personality, changing who they'd been. And pretty much 99.9% of the time, they didn't return to their former selves. Which was why, as much as I thought it'd be cool, I'd never want to be famous. I _liked_ being my plain, common, invisible self.

"I thought so, just it'd been so long I almost didn't remember... Look, whatever, I'm getting off subject. The truth is, I hate the way you make me feel. You make me feel all sappy and... _crappy_, and it's driving me crazy."

"So, because I make you feel... _sappy_ is why you said all those mean, hurtful, degrading, painful..." Shane raised an eyebrow, and I stopped, sighing. "Things? Couldn't you just, you know, be nice?" I swear, I don't, and never will, understand boys in any way. They will never - and I again swear - ever make any sense to me at all. One minute they hate you, and one minute they're telling you that they kind-of-sort-of-kinda like you? And then, of course, they have to go back and switch again.

"It's not that simple Mitch - I mean, Mitchie - I'm like, the bad boy of Connect 3. I have an _image_to uphold. If I suddenly turn 'nice', then I lose my image. Can't you understand that my image is everything?" Oh. Wow. I rephrase that; Boys can be so, so, _so_ stupid, especially when their name is Shane Gray. I repeat, _especially_ if they're Shane Gray.

"I thought upholding an image was all about trying to look good for the press; to pretend to be goody-goody two shoes, even though you're really not. I didn't think it was about trying to maintain an 'I-shoved-my-manager-off-stage-because-he-said-I-couldn't-wear-my-favorite-shoes' _image - _if you could even call it that. Shane, last time Hot Tunes reported about you, it was about how you stormed off set of 'Video Girl' because you didn't like the lead girl they'd picked for you. And the time before that, it was about how you'd dumped your latte all over some poor girl because it was cold. That's not what I would call an image. Don't you want to be someone that little kids look up to? Don't you want to hear them say; 'Mommy, I want to be just like Shane when I grow up'?"

"Don't you see, Mitchie?" Shane's sudden, loud, shout echoed, making me pause and wonder about his sudden flare of anger. "It was always, 'I want to be like Shane Gray when I grow up' or, 'I want to be in a band like Connect 3', or if it wasn't that, it was 'Oh my gosh, it's SHANE GRAY!'" I chuckled at Shane's imitation of Connect 3's crazy, obsessed fans. They were a little... wild, if you put it nicely. "It's sickening after a little while. Can't you just be yourself without _someone_always wanting to be 'just like you'? Or, can't you just go for a nice dinner with your family without being mobbed and having to take your bodyguard just so that you don't get crushed by a million fans ready to trample you to death?" Yeah, I could definitely see how it could get annoying, never getting to have any peace or privacy. That was part of the reason I'd never want to be famous.

His comment had me thinking back to when Connect 3 was just starting out; how different he'd been. I remembered how I'd seen him on Hot Tunes, smiling down at a young girl, obviously a fan, sitting in his lap while he signed an autograph for her. I remembered hearing about how they'd donated to a homeless shelter, bringing them food and blankets and clothes and anything else they'd needed. I remembered the benefit concerts, whereas now it was insanely outrageous to even get crappy tickets to their show. I remembered how Connect 3 had gone and surprised a fan who'd had a hard life, and her one and only wish had been to meet them. I remembered _everything._

"What are you getting at, Shane?" I asked hesitantly, watching his expression for, hopefully, some clue as to what he was rambling about. Shane paused, looking at me, exasperated. As if I was supposed to know what he was talking about. In a way, I understood him, but his tone was confusing me. I wasn't one hunded percent getting what he was hinting at.

"Don't you get it? I just want to be normal. I don't _want_to be on every girl's posters plastered all over their walls, I don't want to live this façade rockstar life, I don't want millions of people looking up to me because I'm 'Shane Gray'. I just want to be _me._"

"Well..." I replied uncertainly, not sure how to respond to Shane's sudden statement. However, Shane saved me the trouble of replying.

"Don't you see it, Mitch?" He repeated again, staring deep into my orbs, "Can't you see that I'm jealous of you?"


	16. Oblivious

**A/N: **_So, here is the second part of Shane and Mitchie's conversation. I think you guys will like this one... lots :) Some fluffy - complete fluff - Smitchie and an ending you'll all like :) I could end the story here, or continue on with it, which I think I prefer the second option, this has by far been my favorite story, and I don't want to stop it anytime soon. But, whatever you guys think, tell me in your review :) Speaking of reviews... think you guys can get me to 300??? Please, I would be estatic! LOL, that would be all-round amazing for me :)_

**Disclaimer: Yada yada, this is getting pretty boring. Camp Rock - I DO NOT OWN :)**

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"What?" I knew the shock was evident in my voice, but I didn't care. Shane kind-of-sort-of-kinda liked me and was jealous of me? It was hardly even believable, even for a girl who was pretty easily manipulated - obviously, duh, look at who I'd fallen for. Shane Gray... who was jealous of me! Argh, when would things finally begin to make sense in this twisted, messed up situation?

"You heard me." Now Shane was looking away, his eyes examining his fingers, as if they were really so interesting. Oh my gosh... Shane Gray was embarrassed! I felt slightly bad, yet it was ample payback. Well, at least he was quiet, instead of staring at me haughtily. This Shane, I could learn to love... oh no, Mitchie, you are not _loving_ him! You can't... ugh, darn hormones making me _love_ Shane.

"Yeah, but... I don't get it. Why would you be jealous of me? I'm just..._ common_." I was still beyond confused, my head and thoughts one big jumbled mess. This was sad - having my mind cluttered and unreadable seemed to be making itself into a habit lately.

"Argh!" Shane groaned loudly, rubbing his eyes with his hands. "We've been over this, Mitchie! You might be common - even though you're not at all, if people take the chance to look close enough, then they'll see that - but that's all I really want to be. Being famous is a little... overwhelming sometimes, especially when you let it go to your head. But then again, that's the inevitable."

"But we all have a choice - everything we do, we have to make a choice." I argued, my temper greatly deflated though. It was almost like I didn't want to argue with Shane anymore - why, I had no idea. Well, I had a slight one... but still.

"That's true - to an extent. But fame can be a tricky thing, and it's sly, so that you don't even know what's happened until it hits you in the face." Shane replied, and I could tell that he was being genuinely honest. For probably one of the first times in his life. He'd even surprised me. No sassy comebacks, or haughty comments.

"Why were you always so mean to me?" I couldn't help but blurt out the question that had been on my mind the entire time that Shane had been confessing his feelings and such. Shane chuckled quietly, shaking his head as he looked up, raising his eyes to meet mine.

"I thought you would've figured that out by now - or at least that it would be the most obvious thing we'd talk about tonight." His comment surprised me - in fact, to me, that had been the biggest mystery of all. If he was so jealous of me, then why did he take every chance to cut me down? "Think about it, Mitch. Normally, if a boy likes you, instead of just going up and telling you to your face, they'll normally poke fun at you, or pretend to hate you, because they don't want to admit that they like you... which is exactly what I've been doing." Okay, now, I was definitely lost. "What I'm trying to say, Mitch," Shane had caught on to my befuddled expression and proceeded to explain himself, "Is that I like you. I've _liked_you. And I wasn't sure how to deal with it, because it's been quite a while since I loved someone - other than my own reflection, of course."

Shane felt the same way about me as I felt about him. Was this possible? Was it really happening? Or had my dream just taken another crazy turn and tricked me into thinking that this was really happening? Just to be sure, I gave myself a small pinch, thankfully unnoticed by Shane, and smiled as I realized I wasn't dreaming. This was real.

"Shane..." I began, but was cut off by Shane's sigh as he dropped his head, breaking the eye contact he'd held for so long. He almost looked like he regretted what he'd just said.

"I'm sorry Mitch, I shouldn't have told you. I know you don't feel the same way about me, and I -" At that, I burst out laughing, catching Shane off guard. In complete surprise, his head jerked back up as he stared at me doubling over, laughing uncontrollably. He obviously didn't understand the complete irony, because his face was turning a light shade of red. "Fine, I get it. But you don't have to laugh like it's so funny -"

"_Shane. _I'm laughing, because I thought that what you just said would've been so obvious, but apparently it's not. I thought you already knew that I liked you! I thought _everyone_knew that!" I replied before he had a chance to get really angry, and he stopped, just staring at me. Apparently, we both were blinded to the most obvious facts.

And it wasn't that long before we were both chuckling at our obliviousness.

"So... where does this leave all of us? Is this going to be one of those 'if you ever mention it, I'll deny it' conversations, or is this... you know, real?" I stopped giggling long enough to return to our conversation, very slowly going to sit down next to him. I still was unsure of how this day - or technically, night - was progressing. Shane followed my suit - stopping his laughing, of course - and glanced at me, probably in surprise, at the fact that I'd sat down on the same couch as him. Slowly, very slowly and watching my expression for any sign that he was making the wrong move, he raised his arm, moving it until it rested across my shoulders and he pulled me closer to him, until I could feel his breath on the top of my head. So different than Jason's hug, yet somehow, it meant so much more.

"I think," Shane began, his warm embrace tightening ever so slightly, "That - since we both feel the same way about each other - that, maybe, just maybe, if you agree, of course, that we should, you know... try to work with a relationship?" I fought the urge to jump up and kiss him now; I might appear a little too excited, and I wasn't sure that he'd like that, anyway.

"I think, if you agree, that I'd like that." I smiled softly, and watched as Shane's eyes sparkled at my comment.

"So..." Shane leaned back ever so slightly, releasing his grip on me slowly, a satisfied smile on his face. I could feel the warm glow of contentment taking over me, leaving me feeling satisfied and peaceful. Shane and I had finally admitted that we liked each other, and now - yes! - we were officially dating.

"So..." I replied, smiling brightly as I stared at Shane, caught up in his sparkling eyes.

"Just kiss me already!" He yelled jokingly, although I could tell that he meant it and wanted me to kiss him, and I laughed as I obliged.

This might just turn out to be the best night ever.


	17. Positions Reversed

**A'N: This has got to be the shortest chapter I've written, period. I'm sorry it's short and sucky, but I was kind of stumped as to what to do with this story, now that Smitchie made up. LOL, this sounds wrong, but Smitchie hate was so much more fun and evil to write that once I switched to the love, I was just like "uhh what do I do now?" lol. Anyways, 300 REVIEWS!! THANK YOU, each and every one of you, who cared enough to get me this high! I really, really appreciate it and I hope this chapter isn't too much of a disappointment. I'll write more next time. Enjoy and review :}**

**Disclaimer: Nope nope nope, I DO NOT own Camp Rock. Need I repeat myself?**

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"_S_o..." I stuttered, my lips still tingling from the sensation, as I sat back to stare at Shane again, feeling slightly awkward. However, Shane's upwards smile told me not to worry and to just enjoy the moment, as he had. Just enjoy the fact you finally made up, decided to date, and kissed the boy that broke your heart. If that makes _any_ sense at all. But I've never make sense before, have I?

"So." He said it more as a statement, his lips still curved upwards, and I couldn't help but grin at the mood. What could I say, it was contagious. Infectious, joyous, gleeful - whatever you wanted to call it, that's what it was. Before I even knew what was happening, I was laughing, perhaps out of pure joy, and Shane was staring at me, looking a little scared, but soon even he joined in.

"So, what was so funny in the first place?" He asked, once we both had stopped and caught our breaths, and I shrugged.

"I'm actually not really sure." I admitted, and Shane shook his head at my childish behaviour. Hey, it was fun. Maybe he'd know if he just loosened up a little bit and enjoyed the small things.

"Wait - I have a question." Shane broke in, looking confused as he stared at me, his eyebrows furrowed together in puzzlement. "If we're, you know, dating, then who is going to be my personal assistant aka maid?" My mouth dropped open; if there was any way to ruin the sweetness of the moment, that would be it. He couldn't be serious...

"Shane!" I yelled, shaking my head at his random - and completely wrong - question, sighing loudly. "Seriously? That's your question? You're trying to figure out what to do about a 'maid' when we just got together?" I rolled my eyes at how completely childish we both sounded, and continued. "Come on, can't you just clean up after yourself?" I asked, and, watching Shane's expression turn slightly pink and his head drop down caused my mouth to drop open once again. "You're not serious!" I shouted in surprise, only causing Shane to blush a whole other shade of red.

"Well... well, I..." Shane stuttered, throwing a quick glance in my direction. I chuckled, rolling my eyes while shaking my head. "Hey, I can't help it!" Shane defended himself quickly, before I had the chance to make fun of him. "I was born into this rock-style life, so I never really had to do that much for myself."

"But seriously, it's so easy - pick up the junk, put it in the trash. Make your bed. Clean up after yourself." I informed him, raising an eyebrow in his direction, and he grimaced. Well, surely he should expect a small lecture for bringing this up and completely ruining the moment we'd been having. "It's not that hard at all. Surely even _you_ could learn how to do it." Shane narrowed his eyes, giving me a dry laugh.

"Ha ha, you're hilarious. But seriously, I've never done it before." Shane shrugged, as if this was just _common_- yeah right, and they said that rock stars are just like normal people. They obviously hadn't been around Shane Gray, or else they might reconsider their statements. Shane Gray was anything except _normal_. Really, what normal person asks their new girlfriend to continue being their maid? Or even has a maid to begin with?

"Well, how about this," I started, watching as Shane's expression shifted to somewhere between curious, and afraid. He should know, my ideas were evil (okay, so he wouldn't know, but he did know that I was pretty darn stubborn and could be evil, if the mood suited me right) and I was already seeking a way to get revenge (I couldn't now though, because it probably wouldn't be right to dump slime over your boyfriend's head) so yes, he had a right to be afraid. "Instead of being your maid - which I don't really think you should suggest in the first place, by the way - how about I teach you?" Shane's eyebrows shot up in surprise, and I scowled. And no, I wasn't mad at him, if you're wondering.

"What, you mean, like, reverse our positions?" He asked in confusion, and I nodded. Well, sort of. But wait... that sounded awesome. A smirk played at the corner of my lips as I thought of the endless possibilities. Shane was squirming uncomfortably beside me, spotting the evil glint in my eyes. But it was a little too late for regret, because now the perfect idea had formed in my head.

"Kind of. I wasn't thinking about it like that, but since you mentioned it... yes, we'll switch positions. You can be the 'maid', although I'll prefer to call you personal assistant - aka, PA - since you're a guy. I'm not sure maid sounds right since you are, after all. Or if you don't like PA, we could go with slave, servant, serf, hireling, cleaning boy, attendant -" Before I could continue to ramble on, Shane shook his head and raised a finger, cutting me off.

"I think we'll just go with PA, because I stopped listening after that." He smiled, and I rolled my eyes. "Anyways... this is kind of pay back, isn't it?" He sighed, leaning back again, but once again, I didn't feel pity for him.

"Yes. And oh boy, oh boy, is it going to be delightful." I grinned wickedly. "Now to the toilets!" I yelled dramatically, watching an expression of horror cross Shane's face.

"No! Please no, _anything_ but that!" He screamed like a little girl as I dragged him towards my bathroom, laughing maniacally.


	18. Fun For The Both Of Us

**A/N: **_So, I've been having a really good week {it took long enough, I'll tell you!} like, I can now legally drive (w00t w00t, I'm SO excited!) and so, with all my excitement, I have to _write_! So, without further ado, here is the next installment of Twisted Situations. BTW, who has seen the banner for this story? What do you guys think of it, if you have seen it? If not, check out my profile for it & a few other banners I've made :) Anyways, ENJOY!!_

**Disclaimer:**_Me? Camp Rock? Psh. I didn't say it was_ that_ good of a week!!!_

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"You're not serious." Shane shook his head, trying unsuccessfully to pull away, but my grasp held onto him tightly. Alright, I might be his girlfriend and all, but what he'd done and said still couldn't just be set aside. One - or as Jason would sometimes say, two - word(s): Payback. Or pay back... hmm, now I've confused myself. I have a bad habit of doing that, which needs to stop. And, if you've noticed, my mind travels in at least three directions at once, I also need to work on that. It gets pretty tiring, after a while.

"Yes, I am. Now here's the scrubber-brush." I handed him the scrubber, watching his face contort as he grasped the object, looking at it in disgust. "So, you just use it like this -" I began, taking hold of Shane's wrist to direct him, but his whine cut me off. Yes, I do mean whining, too. Shane Gray, international pop star, was standing here whining while cleaning out my toilet. What a story this would make.

"Come on, Mitch, you've had your fun, now let me go..." He groaned, but I shook my head, giving him a evil-scientist laugh. He called this fun? Oh my, how our positions had been reversed. Now he was the innocent, almost unsuspecting one.

"You think I've had my _fun_? Please, the "fun" has only started! In fact, it really hasn't even begun yet. I'm not anywhere near done!" I replied, returning one of his trade-mark 'bad boy' smirks at him and watching him scowl. "Now, start." I ordered, trying to copy the tone of voice he'd used on me. Apparently it worked, because he took one glance at my determined expression, sighed dramatically, and moved the brush lower, back and forth in perpetual motion.

"Mitchie.... it's so... _gross_." Shane wrinkled his nose in disgust while I stifled a laugh - after all, we were dating now; I guess I couldn't go all out with revenge. No matter how exciting, wonderful, exhilarating, or joyful it seemed. "Please, can we do something else?"

"Like what?" I asked, leaning back against the wall as I watched Shane scrubbing the toilet, still appalled by the situation. Although, this was a moment that will never get old. Fifty years from now, and I'll think back, and I'll still want to laugh. Imagine if Shane's fan girls saw him now... Once again, I had to place my hand over my mouth to stop the laughter from escaping. Maybe I could video-tape this and put it on YouTube. No, that would be too mean - and Shane would know the culprit all too easily.

"Well..." Shane paused, stopping his cleaning job for a moment to turn his gaze to me, staring into my brown orbs. "Mom did say that - as part of my punishment for acting the way I did - I had to 'do something nice for you', so... why don't we hit a restaurant or something?" At his suggestion, I shook my head, unable to contain the laughter for any longer. I really needed to teach Shane a lesson in the _'making your girlfriend feel good' _department because, honestly, he was pretty pathetic. And I'm not saying that to be mean - for the record.

"Okay, first, when you say 'as part of my punishment', it's really not that romantic, and secondly, it's only three in the morning. What crazy person would go eat at three in the morning?" I chuckled, watching as Shane considered my words, still not making any move to finish cleaning the toilet. "Or, scratch that, what crazy person is even _hungry_ at three AM?" At that, I could see Shane had thought of a comeback.

"Haven't you heard of a midnight snack?" He replied, shaking his head, "We could just have... a three-night snack." My face dropped into a frown at the lame word he'd come up with (actually thinking it was funny, poor Shane, he just wasn't the natural comedian type) and Shane, seeing my expression, hesitated. "Was it really that bad?" He asked, and, at the curt nod of my head, Shane grimaced. "Okay, well, then... why don't you come up with something?" He whined - yes, whining, again - and a smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth as I thought of something.

"Well, I'm perfectly fine just staying here and having you clean things up a little." I replied, and Shane groaned at my response.

"Please, Mitch, something _fun_!" Seeing that I was opening my mouth to respond and, guessing my answer before I could say it, he quickly added onto his last comment. "For the _both_ of us." I guess he did know me a little too well, after all. Which wasn't as much fun - as it could be, of course - for me.

"Well..." I hesitated, unsure of what to say. Really, was there that much to do around here? There was the movie theaters, a few select restaurants, and... well, an arcade. Okay, so I guess I sort of lied when I said there was nothing to do around here. Arcades, especially the one near our house, was a blast to go to. "There is an arcade a few blocks down." I admitted, watching Shane's mouth curve upwards into a smirk.

"Are they open now?" He yelped, desperate for a way out of his current job, and now it was my turn to smirk at him (finally, for a change. It was pretty tiring to get smirked at 24/7).

"Yes, but we can't go until you've _finished_." I emphasized, my grin growing wider as he squirmed, his gaze flickering from my amused expression and back to the scrubber that he was holding in his hands. Frowning, sighing loudly, he gave in, hesitantly - with a grossed out expression on his face, I might add, for your enjoyment - finishing the job. _Now_, I truly could say that I felt _satisfied_. Yes, that was mean, but he definitely deserved it, boyfriend or no boyfriend. "And you have to pay." I added, smirking at his response - yes, you guessed, it was another whine - and grabbing his hand, a smile lighting up my face.

"No, Mitch!" He whined as I dragged him towards the door, grabbing both our jackets - throwing his back towards him, which he caught quite lamely - as I rushed for the door, towing a complaining Shane behind me. And, I only had _one _thought going through my mind as this occurred - Would the fun _ever_ end for me? Because this night just seemed to be getting better and better.


	19. Arcade

**A.N: I am so, so sorry that I haven't updated lately :( I've been busy and have been working a lot on my other SWAC story, Hold Onto Yours. Check it out if you've got the time :) Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, I've had a little writer's block, hence that's why it's taken me a little bit longer, hopefully I'll get over it soon. Also, I used JB's "poned" in here, tell me if I used it right because honestly I'm not 100% what it means (didn't know about them back then and am too lazy to go figure it out). Anyways, ENJOY!!**

**Disclaimer: Nada, no Camp Rock for me :(**

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"Well, look at that, I've beaten you at that too." I smirked, crossing my arms and leaning back, staring at Shane's frustrated expression as he, once again, lost another round of air hockey to me. "What does that make, three out of three for me?" I teased, and Shane frowned grumpily in my direction.

"Can we try something else... like Pac-Man?" He suggested, and I sighed. He was such a sore loser, so I guess it wouldn't hurt to let him win Pac-Man, if he really wanted to. At least I'd put him to shame with air hockey and laser tag... it wasn't my fault that he just so happened to not be his best when it came to those two games, I mean, it wasn't like I'd done it on _purpose_. Or at least, I wasn't going to admit that I had (this is where I'd like to insert a mad-scientist laughter along with an evil smile).

Sighing loudly, as if I was reluctant to give in so easily, I frowned in his direction. Stubbornly, not giving in to my puppy-dog look, he crossed his arms and stared straight back at me. Man, we're definitely not your average couple, if you've noticed. In my defense, this was all sort of new to me. Plus, look what he'd done so far, I deserved just a _little_ revenge, right?

"Well, I guess if it means that much to you..." I sighed dramatically, but Shane only rolled his eyes in my direction as we made our way over towards the Pac-Man machine. At his eye-roll gesture, I stuck my tongue out at him, glancing over at the screen. "Let's play, sucker." I shot, and Shane narrowed his eyes towards me, his hand gripping the controller as we prepared to press start.

"You're so on. But when you lose, well... hmm, those burgers look awfully good over there." He grinned, and I smirked. Oh, so now loser buys burgers? He's so on. I was planning on being nice to him, but he just had to mention food.

"Bet they taste even better. Let's start, loser." I smirked, leaning forwards, my eyes glued to the screen.

It didn't take all but three minutes for me to beat his butt. Giving a triumphant shout, I pumped my fists in the air, grinning brightly. Shane groaned, releasing the controller and watching me do my 'happy dance', probably hoping that no one else was paying attention to my victory dance. Grabbing my wrist, he cut me off mid-dance, pulling me towards the food counter.

"Burgers then?" He asked, although he already knew the answers. Giving a short laugh, I replied.

"No, how about some shrimp scampi..." I paused a second, watching Shane's eyebrows raise. "No, duh!" I rolled my eyes, smacking his arm lightly. Shane groaned as we reached the counter, my eyes scanning over the small menu that lay on the counter.

"Two burgers, please." Shane asked the waitress, who nodded curtly.

"Five forty-one, please." She replied in a bored tone, and I quickly dug through my wallet, trying to come up with the money. Shane's eyebrows raised as he saw what I was doing and he put a hand out to stop me, shaking his head in my direction.

"No way, put that back, Mitch." He demanded, but I only rolled my eyes before I dug through my change, "_I'm_ paying."

"No you're not!" I replied quickly, giving a triumphant stare in his direction as I pulled the money out of my wallet. "Ha!" Shane sighed as I laid the money out on the counter, turning to the waitress.

"Here you go." He handed over a crisp ten dollar bill, leaning over and scooping my change into his hand, turning around and pouring it back into my purse. My mouth dropped open, and I crossed my arms, raising my eyebrows in defiance.

"Oh no you don't!" I yelled, however, the waitress was already handing Shane back his change, and he smirked victoriously in my direction.

"Looks like I'm paying." He replied cockily, and I frowned at him, my eyes showing I was annoyed. "Come on, Mitch, that's what boyfriends do - 'duh!'" He made his tone all girly and raised an eyebrow at me, as if daring me to deny that fact. "And anyway, I thought that the bet was loser buys burgers?"

"Ugh!" I sighed, taking the burger that he handed to me and sitting down across from him. "Well, thank you." I said, and he nodded to let me know he'd heard as he shoved the burger into his mouth. I wrinkled my nose in disgust at his eating habits. "Gross!" I whined, and Shane laughed (before he chewed, making me shudder all over again).

"Come on Mitch, live a little. How else do you plan on eating that hamburger, with a fork and knife?" He joked, and I smirked to myself as I pulled out the plastic fork and knife I'd grabbed from the counter, raising them up in his direction.

"How else?" I mocked, watching as he stared at the objects in my hand with disbelief. Playing along with my plan, I set my hamburger down on my plate, unwrapped it carefully, and smiled before beginning to cut it up into small pieces. Of course, I didn't normally eat it like this, but just to annoy him, I had to. It was too good an opportunity to just pass up. Finally, after swallow a few small pieces, I burst out laughing at his disbelieving expression. "You just got poned!" I joked, and he bit his lip to hold back his laugher, pretending to be angry.

"You're a pain, Torres."

"Touché, Gray." I replied evenly, "But at least I don't have a big head." I added, smirking a little as I picked up the uncut portion of my hamburger and shoved it into my mouth.

"How can you be so sure?" Shane asked monotonously, before tilting his head and wrinkling his nose a little. "You know what, Torres?" He paused, waiting until I raised an eyebrow in his direction to signal I'd heard him but didn't feel like swallowing yet. "You're right, it is gross."


	20. Mobbed

**A.N: **_I'm really, really sorry I haven't updated!!! I've had a lack of inspiration, plus I'm not really sure what to write, since I don't want to use an extremely over-used plot. Since this story was more original, I'd like to keep it that way :) Anyway, sorry for the crappy ending, I'm really only updating because I got about 101 reviews from Cee10155, and I realized if I didn't update soon, well then... I'm sure it wouldn't be good ;P Anyways... who's watching PPP tonight???? I saw it on YouTube last week, it's awesome! I can't wait until they make a section for it on FF! Anyway, enjoy & review!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own CR... yeah duh!_

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"Come on, Torres." Shane pulled me, his hand firmly on my wrist, out of the limo. Although I'd protested before hand, secretly I was glad that he was holding onto me, because I was sure I'd get lost, unable to push myself through the large crowd that had already formed, and probably end up getting stuck outside because the security guards probably wouldn't believe that I was actually with Shane Gray, because there was about a hundred other girls claiming the same thing.

I was also thankful that he kept pulling me forwards, because I really didn't have the heart to shove past so many people. It just seemed insanely rude. Then again... well, I'm sure pushing into someone's face and screaming, trying to attack them literally, wasn't considered polite either. How did Shane deal with this on a regular basis?

"Almost there, Mitch." Shane muttered, although I was just barely able to hear him over the screaming. If I wasn't deaf by the time I reached the building, well then... Well, I highly doubted that I would be that lucky. It just wasn't possible to come out of this without some permanent damage to my eardrums.

"Shane!" A girl beside me shouted, right into my ear. I flinched, swallowing nervously as her gaze shifted to me and hardened. "Who's she?" She yelled, once again, and most of the fan girls' heads turned, eyes widening. I saw Shane shoot a nervous look at Bob (his bodyguard) as he noticed that the attention had shifted from him to me, mouthing something to him.

Before we could reach the door, however, one of the girls lunged, jumping on top of me and pulling me right out of Shane's grasp. I screamed as I was knocked to the ground and surrounded by a mob of the girls, all looking vicious and upset. I tried to wriggle out of their grasp, but when one disappeared, ten more seemed to take her place.

"Stay away from Shane!" One yelled, reaching out and yanking my hair. I yelled in protest, attempting to shove her off of me, but for some weakling, she sure wasn't going to budge. "He's mine!" Another shouted, and I fought against their insistent pulls and yelling and attempting to maul me.

"Get off! Back, get back!" Both Bob and Shane were shouting, yanking girls away, and finally Bob was able to catch my hand and pull me up from the mass that had formed. I breathed heavily, gripping his hand tightly as he sheltered me from the fan girls, pushing me into the building while shouting for the fans to stay back and slamming the doors behind us.

Shane was at my side in an instant, his eyes wide as he watched me take a shaky breath, somehow managing to stay on my feet, although my knees were shaking so hard I was surprised I could even stand. Although I wouldn't admit it to Shane, that close encounter had terrified the crap out of me.

"Mitch, I'm so, so sorry!" Shane exclaimed, his hand resting on my back as he engulfed me into a hug. "I didn't expect them to react so violently! Are you okay?" He asked, his eyes scanning me worriedly. I touched my cheek gingerly, feeling the raw scratches from where one of the girls had dragged her nails across my face. Shane noticed, sucking in his breath as he bit his lip.

"Well, at least we made it inside alive!" I finally spoke, attempting to crack a joke, my voice still a little shaky since I was still attempting to calm myself. Shane didn't laugh, however, as I'd hoped, and I sighed. "I'm fine, it's okay." I continued instead, but Shane only continued to stare at me, as if he was uncertain that I was telling him the truth. "It's okay." I repeated, and Shane sighed again, taking my hand as he pulled away, out of the hug.

"Are you sure?" He asked again, and I nodded. Sure, I was a bit shaken up, but other than that, I was fine. Now that I was out of that situation-turned-ugly-very-fast, I knew I'd be okay.

"Nothing for you to worry about. Now go on, enjoy your show, I'm fine." I smiled reassuringly, and finally Shane nodded, releasing my hand. "Go on, don't want to be late now, do you?"

Shane had invited me to one of their local concerts - okay, more like dragged me here, even after I'd insisted that I didn't even know their songs, or anything - and now I got to sit either backstage, or front row (they'd reserved a seat just for me), but I preferred to stay backstage after the little incident. I wasn't quite ready to go out and be among the psychotic fan girls again, in case any of the ones that tried to attack me just happened to be sitting beside me. No, I think I'll play it safe and stay back here, away from the fans.

*-*-*

As much as I hadn't been expecting to like any of Connect 3's songs, to my surprise I actually happened to enjoy the entire concert. Some of the tunes were very catchy, and I found myself humming along unconsciously half the time. Despite what I'd thought, their songs actually had lyrics with _meaning_, instead of just cookie-cutter-pop star stuff, which I'd definitely expected. Who would've thought that Shane was capable of actually writing down words that had a true, personal, heartfelt message in them?

"How did you like the show?" Shane appeared at my side, sweating heavily, as he smiled at me. I nodded my head enthusiastically, grinning.

"It was awesome. Despite what I thought, your songs are actually very good and catchy." I grinned teasingly at him, and he rolled his eyes.

"Give me a compliment, Mitch, for once?" He laughed, though, and I only continued to grin in his direction. That was, of course, before I got a whiff of him.

"Yuck." I groaned, pinching my nose between my fingers as I wrinkled it, shaking my head at him. "Go get a shower, will you?" I was half-teasing, and definitely partly serious. Mostly serious, but I wouldn't tell him that. I laughed as he once again rolled his eyes.

"Jeez, Mitch, give a guy a break!" He joked, thankfully taking the towel that one of the staff was holding out to him. "I'm going, I'm going!" He continued when he saw my knowing stare, turning and walking away.

"You know I love you," I shouted after him, not really caring who heard, "But I love you more when you don't smell." I laughed before returning to his dressing room and sitting down, waiting for him to come back, fresh and cleaned.


	21. PS Stands For

**A/N: Hello everyone- I'm SO sorry it has been so long since I've updated! Life has been SO hetic lately, and I have lacked the motivation to write. However, I was re-reading through this story, and it sort of inspired me to start writing on it again! Hopefully it's ok - I had to adjust to writing humorous stuff again! Sorry, I sort of ended it abruptly, I didn't know how to finish it :) **

**Anyways... after reading this story over, I started thinking, and how would you guys like a sequel? I have sort of an idea about it, so feel free to share your opinion- sequel or no sequel? Thanks & also, if you'd like to keep up with my sporatic updates, you can follow me on Twitter! My username is WorldOfDemi- If you want the link just PM. Thanks & ENJOY!**

**Disclaimer: No, I don't own Camp Rock... or CR2 :(**

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At the sound of my alarm clock blaring noisily in my ear, I groaned, realizing that this meant I had to get up and out of my wonderfully-comfortable bed. Curse Shane for not allowing me to get a normal sleep for the past three days- did he have to be such a _pop star_? I furrowed my eyebrows together as it hit me that for the past three nights, Shane's previously-unwelcome ego had interrupted my valuable sleep. With a grunt, I slammed my hand down on the alarm clock, temporarily silencing it's irritating beeping noises.

Aydan's cold nose touched my hand, signalling that it was time for me to get up, and with much complaining I rose out of bed, Aydan's curious eyes watching me. It felt strangely peaceful in my apartment - probably because Shane wasn't around bothering me. The cold, fresh air signalled that winter was coming, my favorite time of year. With a smile on my face- the cold air was refreshing and contagious- I got dressed before grabbing Aydan's leash.

"Let's go, boy." I couldn't help the smile on my face as we made our way down the road. After much fighting with the (possibly) most arrogant pop star ever experienced, things had taken a turn for the better. Now that Shane and I were on speaking terms (and much better, a couple), I didn't have to pop a few aspirin each day before heading over to the Grays'.

A small frown appeared on my face as I remembered that in less than a week, the Grays' would be leaving, along with Shane. Once again, I would return to the way things were before- cleaning the Grays' house and living my "common" life. I couldn't help that the huge smile on my face had diminished at the thought of Shane leaving, although I tried to stay positive. It felt strange- just finally getting over out petty differences and becoming a couple, and then separating.

"Hey, what's got you so down?" I stopped, glancing up into the warm, chocolate eyes that made my doubts go away. With a small smile, I smacked him gently, laughing quietly.

"What, are you trying to scare me?" I shot back, narrowing my eyes at him. He only raised his eyebrows, however, and instead motioned behind him. It was then that I noticed that I'd reached the Grays' house. I had been so lost in my thoughts I hadn't even noticed.

"Actually, I was just waiting here for my PA. You wouldn't happen to know where she disappeared to, would you?" He joked casually and, rolling my eyes, I pushed past him, making my way up to the mansion.

"She went on a small vacation- she was just a little too _common_for some arrogant pop star's liking." I teased back, but Shane only pursed his lips together, his head dropping slightly at my words. Sometimes, I swear, he took himself too seriously. It must just be a weakness among pop stars... at least, after hanging around with someone "common", Shane was slowly but surely loosing his jerkish ego. "Now come on Pop Star- I still haven't taught you how to "shine" your converse yet, have I?" I stuck out my tongue- yes, the move was childish, but had I ever said I wasn't still a child at heart? Shane simply rolled his eyes, pouting silently that I still wasn't willing to let my 'PA' go just yet.

"Aww, Mitch..." He whined, yet still followed me, his eyes on Aydan suspiciously. Still, even after the past few days, he still wasn't comfortable around my dog yet, which only made me walk Aydan a little closer to him. He frowned at me, knowing immediately what I was trying to do. "Meanie." He scowled, but I only raised my eyebrows at him.

"'Meanie'? Seriously, aren't you a little old for that? I thought pop stars had to use _special adult _words so they sounded smarter." I retorted, rubbing Aydan's shoulder as we made our way into the house.

"Yeah, but only on smart people." He smirked at this, while my own mouth dropped open. Had he _really_ just gone there?

"Oh, you pretentious pop stars." I shot back, and watched in satisfaction as Shane's smile dropped while he tried to figure out what I'd just said. Rolling my eyes- inwardly, of course- I chuckled quietly, amused by the fact that he still didn't know what 'pretentious' meant.

"Ok, fine, you win Mitch- what does 'pretentious' mean? I'm lost." Well, I'll admit- I was surprised that he'd actually _said_ he didn't know something. But still, I refused to cave.

"Hmm, I'm not sure- how about you go buy yourself a dictionary (If you know what that is) and then tell me?" I replied, my eyes darting to the kitchen as the smell of Mrs. Gray's fabulous cookies reached my nose, my 'argument' with Shane instantly forgotten. I turned around, a smile on my face as I pushed Aydan's leash into Shane's hands and ran towards the kitchen, leaving behind a protesting pop star.

"Hi, Mrs. Gray!" I smiled brightly, hugging her, and she returned the gesture, passing a plate of cookies into my hand.

"Here, sweetheart," She looked more than happy to share the cookies with me, "You and Shane can have these- I set these aside for you two since Nate and Jason already came in like two tornadoes and ate up most of them."

"Thank you!" I beamed, taking the cookies eagerly before heading upstairs to Shane's room, where he was currently sitting on his bed, Aydan laying at his feet. I slowed- he hadn't seen me yet, and the scene before me surprised me. Shane was rubbing Aydan's head, talking to him in soft tones, and Aydan was wagging his tail, licking Shane's face. With a smirk on my face, I coughed, letting my presence be known. Shane shot up, his face turning red as I set the cookies on his dresser, placing my hand on my hips.

"So," I said casually, watching his trapped expression. "How long have you and Aydan been friends behind my back?" I snapped, prefering to act like I was upset, while Shane sat there dumbfounded.

"Uh...." He muttered, unsure of what to say. I held back my laughter as long as I could - I really tried to keep it inside - but watching his embarrassed expression and Aydan's happy, clueless one, I couldn't help but burst out laughing, doubling over.

"I love it, I really do." I laughed, shaking the hair out of my eyes. "You and Aydan- secret friends until the PS's PA discovers their forbidden friendship...." I joked, wiping my eyes. Shane rolled his eyes, before he frowned.

"What stands for PS?" He asked, tilting his head slightly at his question.

"Poop Star." I responded quickly (The pull was just too great), but apperantly, Shane wasn't as slow as I'd given him credit for.

"Really?" He acted surprised, however I knew better. "I thought that it stood for Precious Saint." With that, he tackled me, tickling my sides. I couldn't help but laugh- the joyous infection spreading rapidly. I pushed him away, and Shane stopped, falling down beside me, and I smiled, thinking about how great this job had turned out.


	22. A Changed Pop Star

**a/n: So... if anyone still is even interested in this story, or any of my stories, I'm truly sorry for taking so long to update. I can't believe it's been almost a year since I've actually written anything! I don't really have any excuse this time, I just wasn't motivated to write anything for quite a while. The only reason I've even written this is the fact I got a cool new keyboard & really wanted a reason to try it out (lame isn't it?). However, although it took me a while to write this chapter, re-reading this story has given me a few ideas on how to continue/finish it, so (no promises though!) I may actually be able to get a few more chapters uploaded within this year. Again, _no promises! _I've been super busy horseback riding, and if I have to choose between time for writing or horseback riding... well, I think it's an easy answer. ;P But with that being said, I _will_ try to upload something, and maybe even post a chapter or two on my other stories. Sorry about this super-long, almost pointless a/n, please enjoy this next chapter!  
**

**BTW- I didn't mean to end it where I did, but when I tried to make a break in the paragraph, ff wouldn't save it, so I'm working on the second half of this chapter now & it should be uploaded tonight/tomorrow!**

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"I do believe you've missed a spot." I slid my finger across the dresser I'd just instructed Shane to dust, frowning at the invisible dust on my fingertip, and shook my head. "Sorry, it's not clean enough. Let's try that again. You know it has to be per-fect." I drew out the word, giving Shane a sly smile.

"Mitch!" Shane groaned, his eyes inspecting the dresser, "You know as well as I do that it's _per-fectly _clean. When are you going to stop getting revenge? Don't you think you've had enough fun already?"

"You think _this_ is my revenge?" I couldn't resist laughing as Shane's eyes widened nervously. "Oh no, revenge hasn't even started yet. Luckily for you, Mary's not in town, because she is much more evil than I, and can you imagine what we'd come up with if we put our heads together? You wouldn't even stand a chance." I tried to hide a chuckle, because Shane was looking much too anxious at the moment.

"What's next?" He looked nearly beaten as it was, and I couldn't help but think that maybe he was right, maybe I had tortured him enough already. After all, I only had 6 days left with him, and I wasn't sure I wanted to spend them using him as my PA. Especially since he really wasn't all that good being a personal assistant at all. Maybe I should just call it quits and go do some things together that we both enjoyed.

"Alright." I sighed heavily, as if it killed me to even let him off the hook, "Maybe this is all I've got, and although I don't think you've truly learned your lesson, we do only have a little bit of time left with each other before your next big tour, so I suppose we could do something fun... well, something that you have fun with, should I say, because personally I'm having a blast having someone clean my house and wait on me hand and foot."

"Finally!" Shane threw the rag and cleaner down on the floor before throwing his hands in the air triumphantly. "So, what's the first thing you would like to do, considering we're both retired being PAs? It can't be too long though, because I do have rehearsals at 4."

"It's already 3 o'clock, Shane." I glanced at the clock to my right, raising an eyebrow at him. "Then again, do you mean 4 o'clock regular time, or 4 o'clock Shane Gray time?"

This time it was his turn to roll his eyes. "Mitch, you know I'm a changed pop star." However, the expression that he flashed at me was still very much the 'old' Shane, and I had to bite my tongue to avoid pointing that out. He really had been trying lately, and I wasn't having a super hard time noticing that he actually was changing. I didn't want to risk discouraging his good behavior, not while it was all still so new to him. "You really should give me some credit - after all, I haven't given in to the urge to sue anyone since the incident, and that's a new record for me." He paused slightly as he said it, and I knew even though he was joking about it, he still was uncomfortable with how he'd treated me, and others, before.

"Don't worry about it." I smacked his arm lightly as I offered him a smile, trying to lighten the mood a little. "You're a changed man, right? You've got enough time to set things right. Maybe someone else you've tortured needs a PA." I stuck out my tongue at him - I think I do that a little too much, but if it's not broken, don't fix it, right?

"Don't even suggest it." Shane shuddered, looking down at the cleaning supplies on the floor with disgust. "I can't bear another minute of it!"

"Hey!" I protested, faking indignation. "Are you saying I wasn't a fair employer? How dare you, after how easy I went on you! Maybe I'll change my mind about letting you off the hook..."

"No, no," Shane interrupted quickly, holding his hands in front of him as if to block me from smacking him again, "You were a good employer. I'm just worried that, uh... maybe the next employer won't be as forgiving or understanding as you are?" He quipped as I rolled my eyes at his lame, quick excuse.

"Shouldn't you be getting ready for your rehearsals?" I cut in, glancing at again at the clock, realizing how quickly time was passing. Shane followed my gaze and sighed, running his hands through his long dark hair.

"Probably. If I want to show my manager and brothers that I really am a 'changed man.'" Looking disappointed, he pulled open his huge closet and began pulling out a new outfit. Of course. Changed man or not, I still would never understand why stars had to always dress up for 'rehearsals'. No one really saw you, anyways, so who cared what you looked like? Then again, I wasn't in the pop star world, nor would I ever be, so I would probably never even begin to understand the fame-filled world that Shane lived in.

"You know..." Shane had suddenly popped up right in front of me, jerking me out of my confused thoughts. "You could always come with me... I mean, if you don't mind waiting around while we rehearse. Then we could always hang out after." He looked hopefully, but I still hesitated.

Did I really even belong in Shane's celebrity lifestyle? I wasn't so sure I wanted to be mixed up with Connect 3's events, considering what had happened last time. Shane must have seen my hesitation, because he quickly finished his sentence. "There won't be any fans there, I promise. Mostly it'll probably just be some of the staff who will be on tour with us, and they're not like the crazed animals that were at our last concert." He meant for me to smile, of course, but I still had doubts.

"Ok, I'll go." I heard the words, spoken in my own voice, but I didn't quite understand where they'd come from. I still hadn't fully decided that I wanted to come. However, there was still a part of me that was curious, and I guess my heart had determined I was going before my head had managed to work things out. "However, if you're wrong and I get mauled to death or something... it's all your fault. I want to make sure that's perfectly clear."

Shane's smile lit up his whole face, and I relaxed slightly. If I truly was going to be dating Shane, I would have to become a little bit more comfortable with Connect 3 and their world, and as much as I understood that, I still wasn't sure I was ready to throw myself in the middle of fanatic people. However, seeing the look on Shane's face at the moment made it seem like I had done the right thing.

"_I'm _not changing, though." I teased, laughing as Shane finally managed to decide on an outfit. "Us non-famous people have it so good - no one expects much out of us, so we don't disappoint anyone if we don't wear the latest clothes, even when we're just going to rehearsals." I looked down at my old jeans and worn tee, grimacing slightly. Oh well, it wasn't like I had any other options. The fanciest thing I owned was a summer dress Mary had forced me to buy once on vacation.

"You look fine, Mitch." Shane's smile was honest, and I lost some of the nervousness that was coursing through my veins, knowing he was being sincere. "Not everything in a celebrity's world is all a fashion show." At that, I couldn't hold back my laughter.

"Oh yes, only 99% of it is fashion, Shane. Excuse me for forgetting that 1 percent. Now, shouldn't you be getting into a suit or something for this event?"

I had been joking of course, but suddenly Shane looked distracted, his eyes flickering back over to the outfit he'd picked out, then glancing down at the plain jeans and shirt he was wearing. Deliberately, he put the outfit back in his closet before grabbing his bag. I frowned, somewhat confused, as he headed out of the door without even looking back.

"What was that about?" I was still confused as I followed him out, still trying to make sense of his strange actions.

"Fashion isn't everything, Mitch, it's only a rehearsal after all."

And while I was still mulling over what he meant, he grabbed his guitar and slid into his sports car as if nothing in the world had just happened.


	23. Rehearsals

**a/n: So like I was saying last chapter, for some reason fanfiction wouldn't let me make a new section in the last chapter, so I decided to cut that chapter into two, so here is the second part of the chapter like I promised. Hopefully it doesn't suck too much...  
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**I'm using JB's "When You Look Me In The Eyes" song in this chapter, obviously it's supposed to be a Connect 3 song here...**

**Disclaimer: Of course, I do own Camp Rock, JB, and anything else mentioned here. That's why I live on a mansion on my own private island with my own horses and a zebra. Isn't life wonderful? -sarcasm obviously intended-**

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I stepped out of the car, surveying the thankfully empty concert arena in front of me. The last time I had been to a place like this...

I shuddered and pushed the memory away, focusing instead on Shane as he made his way towards the building, avoiding the grand front entrance and instead making his way towards the back of the venue where I'm sure there was a back door that only celebrities and venue staff even knew existed. Sure enough, there was a small door that Shane pulled open, motioning me to go through.

To my surprise, most of my tension melted away once I actually stepped into the building. Despite my recent experience with arenas, I had many wonderful memories of seeing all my favorite bands in concert when I was younger, and every time I was inside a venue all the good memories came flooding back.

I saw Shane suppress a smile as he watched my expression change, and I shot him a quick glance warning him not to say anything.

"Finally! You're late, Shane!" Nate was walking towards us, rolling his eyes at Shane, who jumped slightly before glaring at his watch, frowning. Nate laughed, slapping Shane with a wicked smile. "That was too good to resist. You should've seen your face..." Chuckling, Nate turned towards me, extending a warm smile. "I don't know what you've done to talk some sense into Shane, Mitchie, but I have to say thank you. This is the first rehearsal in... well, I don't remember exactly, since Shane hasn't shown up whenever he felt like it.. if he even showed up. He used to just yell that he didn't need the extra practice if we even mentioned it."

"Nate!" Shane's murderous glance said he hadn't appreciated Nate telling on him. "Do you have to just blurt out everything you think?" Nate just looked amused though, as his gaze returned to me.

"See, that's how he used to respond before. Like he was about to bite off your head."

I couldn't resist snickering because, truthfully, it was hilarious. Shane turned his incredulous gaze on to me as he heard my chuckle, looking surprised. As much as he looked crestfallen, I could well imagine Shane's attitude before... mostly because I had already experienced it. Now that it was over, and the 'old Shane' was gone, it was good to laugh about it.

"Let's just get started with rehearsals." Shane looked somewhat frustrated at Nate and my sudden 'friendship', but I didn't feel guilty in the least bit as I followed them both through the maze of corridors that eventually led to the center stage where Jason was already waiting, guitar in hand. He offered a small wave but didn't speak as he watched Shane and Nate's expressions.

"You're welcome to sit wherever you want, Mitch." Shane's tone said he wasn't mad at me, not really, just annoyed with Nate. I nodded as I jumped off the stage and picked a random seat in the front row, listening as the choreographer began explaining, in great detail, what dance moves he wanted to see during the performance and during what songs they were supposed to happen.

I sat back, only half listening as my eyes followed Shane as he moved around the stage, getting comfortable with the routine. He was a good performer, I would give him that - there was just an air about him that commanded the audience to watch.

Time had already passed, but I wasn't sure of how long we'd been there, when the director told them to begin practicing a few of their songs as well.

Before I'd ever met Shane, I hadn't even heard a Connect 3 song. Sure, I had some friends that were major fans and used to try to get me to listen to them, but it hadn't been my type of music. Now, after just a few times of hearing some of the songs, they were already stuck in my head. I might have been annoyed if I hadn't finally made up with Shane. It seemed like my head was filled with a never-ending concert, the lyrics already embedded into my brain.

The music began to play, and I leaned back, closing my eyes, listening as the music washed over me, blocking everything out. They had begun with a song I already knew, and a smile played at my lips as Shane's voice broke softly through the instrumentals.

It was easy to lose myself in the music and forget that there were other people in the room. Without thinking, I began to sing along. The words were purely beautiful, like a gentle lullaby.

_When you look me in the eyes,_

_ I catch a glimpse of heaven_

_ I find my paradise _

_When you look me in the eyes_

It was so inspiring, such a sweet song it wasn't hard to fall in love with the whole melody.

_When I hold you in my arms,_

_ I know that it's forever..._

It took me a second to realize the music had abruptly stopped, and as I opened my eyes in confusion, breaking off my singing quickly, I saw they were all staring at me. Confused and suddenly self conscious, I swallowed harshly, wondering why they'd quit playing. My eyes slid to Shane's as I silently asked him to explain what in the world was going on. He took a second to answer, and I glanced towards the stage door, wondering if I should just jump ship and escape through it.

"Mitch... your voice is amazing." He sounded out of breath, most likely from performing a few seconds ago, and I still stared at him, waiting for the words he'd spoken to finally piece themselves together and make sense in my head. How in the world had he heard me singing above the music? I hadn't thought I was singing very loudly. "It's so beautiful... I can't believe you're not a singer."

At that, I couldn't contain my laughter. "Oh yes, a singer... me, living the pop star life because of my flawless singing voice? Yeah, right." I scoffed - my voice wasn't anything but ordinary. "I can see the headlines now: "Mitchie Torres: Maid by Day, Singer by Night."

"I'm serious. I haven't heard anything quite like your voice. You took my breath away when you sang, Mitch. And that doesn't happen often." He smiled, obviously meaning the last part as a joke, but I was too busy replaying his words over in my head to amuse him.

I hadn't given much thought to my voice, actually. Sure, I enjoyed strumming a guitar in my little bit of free time and writing some songs that weren't all that great, but doing singing professionally? The thought had never even crossed my mind before. There were too many if's and maybe's in the business, and the world already had enough singers - my chances of actually becoming a singer were extremely slim, if not impossible.

Plus, even if I had tried and, by some miracle, actually made it in the celeb world, could I handle living their life? Endless parties, insane fans, paparazzi always lurking around somewhere, always being judged by the media, having every little detail in your life scrutinized...

Being a singer was out of the question. I loved my quiet, common life, and I wasn't interested in trading it all for insanity, where I could never have a private life. Even just thinking about it was stressing me out, and I wished fervently that I'd never relaxed enough to sing in front of them. I couldn't do it, I could never be famous.

"Please just drop it." Suddenly, my stomach was much more upset than it had been all day, and slamming my hand over my mouth, feeling sick instantly, I jumped to my feet and ran out of the door.


End file.
